Painting Flowers
by Permanent Rose
Summary: /"I lied to you, Will. I lied to you when I told you I was a virgin."/ Emma/Will multi-chapter
1. Chapter I

Chapter I

"He told me he loved me."

Rachel Berry glanced from her feet to the guidance counselor's wide eyes, licking her lips tentatively as she waited for Emma to respond.

Today had been a pamphlet day. Three students had been in already, and Emma had sent them each on their way with a pamphlet dealing with their various issues. The pamphlets were a nice investment for days like these—days Emma wasn't sure she'd be able to hold herself up when dealing with the messier subjects. It was a cop-out, she knew, but with her own life danging so delicately from a thread, she was finding it hard to care.

Rachel looked at her expectantly, and Emma sighed. Unfortunately, there was no pamphlet explaining Rachel's predicament.

"Well, Rachel," Emma started, considering her words carefully. But as she looked into the sophomore girl's eyes, she gave up. "Do you love him?"

Rachel seemed slightly startled by her blunt words. "Well, it's hard to say exactly. I thought I did—for so long. And then there was Jesse," her voice cracked, and Emma gently pushed the box of tissues toward Rachel. "Yes. I love him. I love him, and that's why I'm so scared. I'm scared that he's going to hurt me just like Jesse did."

Emma sighed heavily. "Rachel, I can't promise you that he's not going to hurt you—love isn't a fairy tale like you want it to be." _Like I want it to be, _she thought bitterly. Rachel glanced up, grimacing slightly. "People hurt you, even when they say they love you. Finn's a high school boy, and I can't promise he's going to turn out any better than Jesse. But that's not for me to judge—you're the one who knows him. You're the one who loves him back. And Rachel, there's no easy answer to this. You've got to make that choice on your own. You have to decide if you're ready to possibly get hurt again—if Finn is worth that possibility. And I can't make that decision for you, Rachel. That's something you have to choose."

"I want to give him a second chance—so, so much Ms. Pillsbury." The words spilled from Rachel's mouth. She pushed her dark hair behind her ears, looking up at Emma with a pleading look in her eyes. "I know you can't tell me what to do, but could you tell me what _you'd _do in this situation?"

Emma sucked in a breath, beginning to fidget nervously with the beaded necklace dangling against her chest. How could she tell Rachel the truth? How could she tell her she'd already given up in her own similar situation? "Well, Rachel, keep in mind that I'm not you. We handle things very, very differently." She gave Rachel a significant look.

"I know that, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel quickly told her. "It's just—I don't know what to do anymore."

Emma watched helplessly as the tears began to spill from the girl's watering eyes. She stood, walking slowly to the other side of the desk, hesitantly placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"I wish I had a mom," Rachel choked, her shoulders shaking as the sobs tore through her.

Emma felt her own throat grow tight as Rachel said the words. Rachel had spent a great deal of time in her office a few weeks prior when she had discovered that Shelby Corcoran was her mother. Emma had watched the young girl's excitement slowly fade as she began to realize she wasn't going to get the mother she always dreamed of.

"Oh, Rachel," Emma sighed, patting Rachel's shoulder tenderly. "I wish there were some easy answer I could give you, but these decisions you have to make are tough. Just know my office is always open if you need to talk."

"Thanks, Ms. Pillsbury," Rachel muttered, smiling faintly as her. "That means a lot to me."

She departed shortly after, leaving Emma alone. The hours crawled by slowly as Emma felt lonelier than ever. She missed those carefree afternoons in the faculty lounge eating lunch with Will—before their relationship had become complicated. Now, she spent her lunch hour alone in her office, scrubbing her grapes in silence.

As she packed her bag, planning to make an early escape, her cell phone began to buzz. Startled, she fumbled for it in her purse, groaning when she saw the caller.

Carl.

Against her better judgment, she answered the phone, pushing the annoyance and exasperation from her voice as she spoke.

"Hello."

"Hey, Emma," he said cheerfully. Emma swallowed, pushing away her impatience.

"How are you, Carl?" She forced the words from her mouth.

"I'm doing well, Emma. But the better question is, how are you feeling?"

The question stemmed from her latest excuse—she had managed to evade a date with Carl ever since the hallway incident with Will. Last night, her stomach had been feeling off, which actually hadn't been a complete lie. The thought of suffering through a date with Carl _did _make her feel queasy.

"I'm feeling better," she mumbled hesitantly, picking up a pen, absentmindedly beginning to click it against the desk.

"Well enough to go out tonight?" His voice rose slightly with excitement. "I have reservations for that little Italian restaurant downtown—Bella Luna."

She placed the pen neatly back in the mug resting on the corner of her desk, sighing heavily.

"I can't."

On the other side of the line, Carl sighed just as dramatically. "Emma, I don't mean to sound rude, but why not? We haven't done anything for the past five days, and—and I miss you."

Emma's heart sank, guilt settling in her stomach. "Carl...I'm sorry. But it's, um, a really a really busy time of year for me—only five more days of school left. But I promise we can do something every night once school's out." Emma cursed herself as soon as she said the words. She hated compromising herself—and making empty promises to Carl just so she could feel better about herself.

"Alright." Carl's voice sounded hopeful, though there was still a melancholy note it in it. Emma began to fidget with the pen once again. "I'll talk to you later, Emma."

"Bye, Carl," she whispered, waiting for the line to go dead before she hung up her own phone.

She sighed, grabbing her already packed bag. She hurried down the empty halls, trying to beat the final bell. She safely made it to her car before the throng of students poured into the halls. As she drove from the lot, her eyes darted toward Will's blue clunker a few spaces down. Her heart fluttered involuntarily. She remembered when she had plotted out her day so she could bump into Will as often as possible; now, she took the same measures to avoid him. Just seeing his sad smile and his messy mop of curls were enough to break her heart.

Upon arriving home, she noticed a huge bouquet of flowers resting on the doorstep of her condo. She picked up the bundle of roses, smiling against her better judgment. But her stomach dropped when she read the note attached to the flowers:

_There's a rose for every time I thought of you today. Can't wait to see you again. _

_~Carl_

And beside his name, he had drawn a cheesy smiley face with a toothy grin. It was sweet—too sweet, and Emma had to wonder exactly what she had gotten herself into. When she had agreed to go out with Carl, she had in mind to keep it strictly platonic. But the ever-endearing Carl seemed to have a different notion in mind.

She stepped inside the condo, a feeling of contentment washing over her as she entered her clean home. She left her shoes by the designated rack she kept by the door. After disposing of her bag in the nearby armchair, she glanced at the flowers in her arms, wondering exactly what she should do with them. The withering flowers by the window caught her eye.

The flowers Will had given her nearly a month ago.

Though the flowers were dead, she didn't have the heart to get rid of them—as if the once lovely bouquet symbolized the last thread of hope she was still clinging to. She sighed, placing the vibrant roses on the table next to the withered ones. She took the vase to the kitchen, regretfully disposing the contents into her compact trash can. She rinsed out the vase, filling it with fresh water before bringing it the living room and placing Carl's roses in the vessel.

Though the roses were gorgeous, she couldn't help but to miss the varied assortment of flowers Will had chosen for her. She knew he had gone the safe route—buying her a variety of flowers instead of trying to guess at her favorite kind. Truth be told, Emma didn't have a favorite flower. She rarely kept real flowers in her home because of the dirt and bugs, but even so, she wasn't sure if she could narrow her favorite type down to just one. She liked how they looked all together—an explosion of beauty and color, and though Will's flowers had only been a humble appeasement, they had been the perfect bundle for her.

After staring at her roses for a moment longer, Emma collapsed against her plastic covered sofa, closing her eyes as she allowed the peaceful cleanliness of her home settle around her. But her mind began to wander all too quickly, and soon her thoughts straying back to the exchange with Rachel Berry in her office.

Emma had been trying not to think about Will's unexpected declaration of love, but the incident kept replaying itself over and over again. She could still taste his urgent lips against hers—and the way she had just as desperately pressed her lips against his. She had clung to him for dear life, trembling from the unexpected passionate display.

Emma pulled herself away from the memory, licking her dry lips. It wasn't fair of her to torture herself this way—especially with Carl still in the picture.

She was playing the same game she had played when she had dated Ken Tanaka. Carl was a good man, and with Will out of the picture, he might have been even more than good. She was settling for him, just as she had settled for Ken. She hated herself for tangling herself in the same exact scenario as before, and it had taken her until this time around to realize she had a weakness. When Will became unattainable, she panicked. She panicked because she realized just how much she wanted him, and it scared her. It frightened her when she realized things we never going to workout in the fairy tale-like way she wished for, and she began to feel an innate need to prove to herself that she could find happiness without Will—that someone else could fill the boots of prince charming.

But with a sickening wave of dread, she had realized that this was not the case. She loved Will, and it had taken Will's fervent declaration of his own love in the hallway to make her realize just how much she loved him too. He was the only man she wanted, and no matter how hard she tried to make things work with men like Ken and Carl, she knew she would never find that complete love and happiness in man other than Will.

But she continued to play her game nonetheless, and it felt like a stab in the heart each time she realized just how much she was hurting these innocent men. It was selfish, really, but she was too scared to stop.

Too scared to end up alone.

Too scared to take a risk with Will. Too scared that he would hurt her even more.

Because Will wasn't the first man who had hurt Emma.

* * *

_A/N: Why yes. I am breaking away from my usual one shots and writing a multi-chapter fic. _

_I know, the beginning's a bit slow, but I promise I have epic plans for this fic. As always, I appreciate your feedback! Thanks!_


	2. Chapter II

_Chapter II_

"Hey, Emma."

The voice stopped her dead in her tracks. He wasn't supposed to be here. Not now.

"Don't you have a class this period?" she muttered, refusing to look at him.

It was last period, and Emma was certain Will had his honors senior Spanish class this hour. In fact, Emma knew Will's schedule like the back of her hand. It had been convenient for when she had planned her "accidental" bump-ins with Will, and now it proved just as useful when she sought to evade him.

And right now, he wasn't supposed to be here.

"They're taking a test," he explained, catching his breath as he caught up with her. "I needed to use the bathroom."

"Will, the faculty restroom is on the other side of the school," Emma spat at him with a bit more venom than she intended. She turned sharply on her heels, catching his gaze against her better judgment.

"Fine, Em," he muttered, sounding slightly hurt. She ignored the thudding in her chest, her gaze flickering from his eyes to her feet as he spoke. "I left early so I could catch you before you left."

She shifted her bag on her shoulder uncomfortably, swallowing her words. She didn't want to talk; not now.

"Please, Em," he pleaded with her, his eyes tearing through her. "I've been trying to find a spare moment to talk to you all week...we can't just leave what happened in the hallway unresolved."

Her heart continued to pound as a mixture of anxiety and longing coursed through her. "Not right now, Will," she manged to push the words from her lips.

"Why not, Emma? Now is as good a time as ever," Will told her, reaching out to gently touch her arm.

She didn't move, watching as his fingers rested softly on the sleeve of her lavender cardigan. She had known this moment would come. They could only avoid the situation for so long before throwing the turmoil of emotions out for the both of them to sort through. But she wasn't ready now; she had wanted this discussion to happen on her own terms. She felt unprepared and helpless from the spontaneity of this meeting, and she wasn't ready to smooth everything out between her and Will without careful planning on her part.

"No, Will," she told him as firmly as she could manage through the tightness in her throat. "I'm dating Carl. He's a good man, Will." The words tasted oddly familiar in her throat as she remembered saying the same about Ken. But this situation was different. Carl was different than Ken. And Will was not the man she had convinced herself he was. "And I have a date with him tonight, so if you'd please excuse me, I'd like to head home now."

The words were not a complete lie. Emma knew Carl would be eager to make this date a reality as soon as she requested it.

"Emma, you're going to have to stop running at some point," Will sighed, lowering his hand from her arm.

She didn't say anything as she turned away from him. She clutched her bag tightly against her side, digging her nails into the woven material.

"Goodbye, Will," she muttered, facing the empty expanse of hallway as the words left her lips.

XXXX

The hazy June afternoon suffocated her as soon as she left the building. She slipped her cardigan off her shoulders, draping it over her freckled arm. The afternoon rays beat down on her bare skin, and even in her sleeveless white blouse, she felt the unpleasant trickle of sweat begin to sweep beneath her clothing. She made it to her car, dreading the stuffy interior. She rummaged through her bag for her keys, placing them in the ignition and blasting the air conditioner as soon as the car was started. It was much too hot inside the car for Emma to even consider climbing in; even the blazing outdoor air was more bearable.

As she waited for her car to cool, Emma pulled her phone from her bag, dialing the number she had been avoiding for the past week.

He picked up on the first ring, and his eagerness immediately had Emma regretting her hasty decision.

"Emma!" Carl exclaimed cheerfully. "I wasn't expecting a call from you. What's up?"

She took in a breath of suffocating summer air. "I was, um, just wondering if you'd, you know, maybe like to go out tonight?"

Though the thought of a date was far from comforting, Emma felt a certain feeling of confidence surge through her. Will couldn't continue to rule her life this way. He was wrong. She wouldn't need to stop running. He was the one who needed to stop chasing.

"Tonight?" Carl couldn't hide his surprise. "I thought we were waiting until your school year ended, and you still have three days left if I counted correctly—not that I'm complaining or anything," he added quickly.

"Well, I have almost everything wrapped up now," she lied. Emma had been so anxious and edgy during the past week that she had accomplished close to nothing. She still had student schedules to enter, and she hadn't even begun packing up her office. "Things are going a lot smoother than I planned so I thought it'd be nice to go out tonight."

She could practically hear him grinning through the phone. "That'd be great, Emma. I'll pick you up at your place around seven?"

"That works for me," she agreed, twisting the hem of her blouse between her fingers.

"I've got to go now...I'll see you later," he told her, hanging up before she could even manage to bid him goodbye.

XXXX

"What the hell am I supposed to wear?" Emma exasperated, her throat tightening in frustration as she rummaged through her closet.

The phone conversation with Carl had ended so abruptly that Emma hadn't even had the chance to ask where they would be going. Emma's tendency to need constant control made her a hater of surprises.

She scanned her rows of skirts, running her fingers across the material. Her eyes fell on her Red Valentino dress. She had worn it for Will, the night the unexpected run-in with Terri had occurred. She touched the fabric of the dress, the culmination of frustration and anger finally getting the best of her.

She felt tears spring in her eyes as she collapsed to her closet floor. How had she gotten here? She had known from the start that chasing after a married man was messy business, but she had been careful to keep her infatuation tidy and under control. But she had soon discovered she'd been wearing her heart on her sleeve, and now she vowed to keep it safely tucked away. It hurt too much to have the one person who could shake Emma up so violently rip her heart carelessly away from her, and no matter how sincerely Will tried to win her back, she refused to compromise herself once again.

Emma knew what it felt like to be used. She knew what it felt like to be used and disposed like a filthy piece of garbage, and she had promised herself she wouldn't let it happen again. She had come too close with Will. Much too close.

She rose from the floor, trying to pull herself out of her funk. Will couldn't continue to keep such a strong grip on her life, she reminded herself. And she wasn't going to let a mere memory keep her from wearing that damn red dress.

She pulled it from the hanger a little more violently than she intended. After depositing her school attire in the hamper, she slipped into the simple red dress. She couldn't go wrong with a dress like this; it could appear casual or slightly dressy which made it perfect for any occasion. She paired it with her tangerine belt and a cream colored cardigan with roses adorning the neckline.

She glanced at her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity of the afternoon, but she had already decided to skip an evening shower, knowing that she'd want one before bed without a doubt. She brushed through her shoulder length locks and fixed her sagging bang swoop just as she heard the doorbell ring.

Carl grinned widely as she opened the door. He held a single white rose in his grasp, which he promptly handed to Emma.

She accepted the rose, bringing the gorgeous flower to her nose to show her appreciation. "It's lovely. Thank you, Carl. Would you like to come in for a minute?"

He nodded, stepping over the threshold. "Would you like me to take my shoes off?" he offered politely.

Emma glanced at his shiny loafers and then at the expanse of white carpet. She nodded, blushing slightly. He was too good to her.

He left his shoes by the door as Emma crossed the living room, placing the single white rose in the vase among the sea of red ones.

She saw Carl's face light up as he recognized his bouquet of flowers.

"They're beautiful—thank you," she addressed him, regarding the roses for the first time.

"Not as beautiful as you," he delivered the cliché line, causing Emma's cheeks to turn pink. He leaned in to brush his lips lightly against her cheek, his scruffy face brushing against her skin. He smelled like his usual mints and latex gloves, a scent Emma found comforting.

They walked toward the door, Carl replacing his shoes and Emma strapping on a pair of red Kate Spade heels to match her dress.

"Where are we going?" Emma asked, stepping into the warm June night. With the sun setting, the heat was not so unbearable.

"Well, I didn't have time to make reservations for any of the nicer places downtown," he told her, offering her his hand as she stepped down the stairs in front of her condo. She gingerly took it as he continued to speak, "so I thought we'd just eat at my place if that's okay with you." His offer was genuine, and Emma felt relieved that he hadn't decided to settle for an inferior restaurant; she could hardly force herself to eat at a place where she didn't trust the sanitary habits.

"That'd be really nice, Carl," she told him, her lips curving into a subtle smile.

Carl smiled back at him, his perfect teeth gleaming. He was no Will, but Carl was handsome. With his dark tousled hair and comforting hazel eyes, Emma found him attractive on many levels. Though she usually preferred cleanly shaven men, she didn't mind Carl's gruff stubble; she found it suited him well.

They made light conversation on the ride to Carl's apartment, mostly consisting of Carl asking Emma how things were at school. She answered with short, vague answers, evading the truth of the pain she suffered through daily.

"That Spanish teacher still bothering you?" Carl asked as they neared the apartment complex.

Emma cringed. Though she hadn't delved in the whole situation with Will, she had touched on it enough for Carl to become jealous of the man who still held her heart.

"Nope, I haven't really seen him recently," she answered too quickly, the lie seeping through her teeth.

Carl tactfully dropped the subject after that, parking the car in silence.

Emma hadn't been to Carl's apartment yet, so she found herself growing anxious as they entered the elevator on the main floor.

"Right down here," he told her, motioning for her to follow him down the hall once they reached the fifth floor.

He opened the door, revealing a tidy apartment with sparse but well chosen décor. The underlying smell of mints filled her nostrils as she entered the room. It wasn't very different from what she had expected.

She instinctively slipped her shoes off, and she watched Carl do the same.

"Would you like me to take your sweater for?" Carl offered. "Or are you going to keep it on?"

The apartment was a comfortable temperature, so Emma shrugged off the light cardigan, handing it to Carl.

"Kitchen's this way," he told her once her hung her sweater in the front closet. "I thought you might like to help me prepare dinner."

Though they had only been dating for a short while now, he was already beginning to pick up on her quirks, and it only made her heart hurt to realize just how much he cared.

They made a simple dinner—lemon chicken and a salad with strawberries, walnuts, and poppyseed dressing. Carl kept the conversation moving while they ate as he told Emma about his various patients. She listened appreciatively, glad that he could uphold the conversation. Though the frustration and anger from her conversation with Will had begun to fade, she still found she was not in a talkative mood this evening.

She gladly helped with the dishes, and soon the kitchen was restored to it's immaculate condition. Emma wrung the dishtowel through her hands, replacing it on the bar by the stove, waiting for Carl to speak.

"Do you want to stay for a little longer and watch a movie or something?"

She had anticipated an offer like this, and though a part of her was anxious to return to her own condo, shower, and snuggle beneath the blankets of her bed as she tried to block the day's events, she knew she hadn't agreed to this date with Carl just to follow through halfheartedly.

She nodded, joining him in the living room.

"I just have a lot of old Western movies," he apologized, scanning through his case of movies. "Is that okay with you?"

She nodded, watching as he placed Lonesome Dove into the player.

He joined her on the couch, leaving a small gap between their bodies. By the time the opening credits rolled on, she felt his hand slip into hers.

Only minutes into the movie, she caught him staring at her. She let her hair fall across her face, feeling embarrassed.

He reached over to tuck it behind her ear, tilting her chin up so he could see her eyes. "You're beautiful," he repeated the phrase he had uttered early, and Emma blushed once again, feeling uneasy from the undivided attention he was showering her with.

He kept his hand lightly beneath her chin, and the overwhelming smell of spearmint overcame her as he brought his mouth toward hers. She quickly turned her face at the last moment so his lips landed on her cheek instead.

"I'm—I'm sorry," she stuttered as he pulled away, looking slightly abashed.

"Don't worry about it." He forced a smile, and coughing awkwardly he added. "I have some extra toothbrushes and toothpaste under the cabinet in the bathroom if you'd like to freshen up."

Emma realized at once that he had attributed her reluctance to her mysophobia, and she felt a wave of relief as she realized she wouldn't need to explain her brash behavior.

She nodded, mumbling a quick "thank you" as she slipped into the bathroom down the hall.

Her cheeks felt hot as she leaned against the wall of the small bathroom. Her head swam as she felt the turmoil of emotions wash through her trembling body, having an overwhelming urge to get out of this relationship with Carl. Was Carl really so different than Will? As soon she got herself romantically involved, she was well aware that she was compromising everything she had—everything she was worth. And it scared her so much to think she might get hurt. She pushed away the unwanted memories that began to infiltrate her mind—memories she had tried so hard to block, but they seemed to be haunting her more and more in these past few months.

She took in a shaky breath, distracting herself by glancing at the interior of the bathroom. It was typical bathroom decor—pale blue walls, a small seashore painting on one of the walls, and a matching blue soap dispenser and towels.

She hesitantly opened the vanity cabinet, revealing that Carl did indeed keep spare brushing supplies under the sink. Though he had offered her a mint after dinner, she could still taste the chicken and salad lining her teeth. She popped a toothbrush out of its plastic covering and squeezed a healthy portion of toothpaste onto the the bristles.

The simple act of brushing comforted her, and as she she spit the frothy blue foam into the sink, she felt her stomach settle considerably.

As she joined Carl, who was now mesmerized in the Western film, she realized that though she had calmed herself enough to keep from having a panic attack, she was in no way ready to sit through the long movie with Carl.

She coughed lightly as she approached the couch, standing over him with a pleading look on her face.

"You okay, Emma?" he asked suddenly, pulling his attention away from the movie.

"My head hurts," she lied lamely, but she found herself hardly caring at this point. "Can you take me home?"

She must've looked pretty desperate because he immediately turned off the television, ushering out of the apartment without a question.

They were silent on the car ride home, and Emma found herself fidgeting with the tag of her cardigan she held in her lap.

"I hope you feel better, Emma," Carl took her sincerely, giving her hand a gently squeeze as he parked in front of her condo.

"Thanks, Carl." She managed a smile as she stepped out of the car. "I had a nice time."

She hurried to her room as soon as he left, throwing her dress and cardigan into the hamper though they were hardly even soiled. She entered the bathroom, catching her flushed reflection in the mirror.

God, she really did look awful.

A world-weary sigh escaped her chest as she stepped into the shower, turning the dial as hot as it went, trying in vain to wash away her brokenness.

* * *

_A/N: You guys are awesome. Seriously. Keep up the positive feedback; it gets me writing faster ;)_

_Just wanted to say a quick thanks to my anonymous reviewers: The Duchessina, Ress, Alyssa, and Melissa. _

_I love me some angst, haha. And you won't have to deal with Carl and Emma for much longer, I promise :)_


	3. Chapter III

_Chapter III_

Monday mornings were never pleasant, and this particular Monday—the last of the school year—was especially dreadful**. **

Emma stood in her office, pulling her hair back from her forehead as she stared at the mess of boxes, pamphlets, books, and papers that littered every visible surface. She could put off the task no longer—and now her head was swimming from the mess that lay before her.

She had closed her office, taping a sign to the glass panel informing the students to enter only if they had an emergency. She regretted cutting herself off from the student population when so little time remained, but she desperately needed uninterrupted solitude to complete the daunting task.

She worked diligently throughout the day, packing and organizing boxes tediously. She couldn't do the job halfway—which meant the books and pamphlets had to be organized by size and then alphabetized before stowing them safely away. And as much as Emma wished to give in to the little voice in her head that told her than her anal organization was unnecessary, she knew she would regret it the following school year when her items were shoved haphazardly away.

As her office slowly became bare and empty, a melancholy feeling dropped in her stomach as it did at the close of each school year. Another year gone—no matter how painful—always left Emma feeling a little morose.

Wednesday would be the three year mark—three full years of teaching at McKinley High. A part of her could not believe it had only been three years; it felt like she had occupied this office for an eternity. In other ways, the time had flown by at an alarming pace.

But she knew she was not counting the years by the number of days and weeks that had passed. She thought of the years in terms of Will, and for a moment, she allowed her mind to drift back to her first day at McKinley—the first day she had encountered Will.

XXXX

_This wasn't how her first day was supposed to turn out. She hadn't even had the chance to make it to her office and everything had already gone terribly awry. _

_She glanced down at her slushie covered front, biting her lip to push back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. How was she supposed to know that the throng of football players would be gathered in the back hall, waiting to ambush the student in the wheelchair with overflowing cups of crushed blue ice?_

_They had successfully drenched the poor boy in an icy layer of liquid, and the force of the impact had caused the solidified drink to spray out in every direction, successfully hitting everything in the vicinity._

_Including Emma. The sticky blue liquid quickly dyed her favorite pink J. Crew cardigan a unattractive shade of purple. _

_She had heard horror stories about high school and even had some of her own unsavory experiences during her teenage days, but never had she imagined an act as absurd as slushie-throwing. _

_Thank God she had a spare change of clothes in her car. Preparation was key. If she came prepared, she could avoid compromising herself in many situations. Being in control made her feel safe. _

_She hurried out to her car, a used black Volvo she had cleaned up to appear as good as new. The heels of her Mary Janes caught on the curb, and as she lost her balance, the onslaught of her terrible day began to truly sink in. On top of her slushie stained sweater, she now was going to be covered in gravel and whatever other mortifying filth covered the ground. _

_She fell, her legs collapsing beneath her. Her hand skidded across the black top, and she felt her stocking tear as her leg slid beneath her. _

"_Damn it," she muttered, her voice thick with tears as she realized her bag had flown off her shoulder and landed a few feet away. _

_As she struggled to her feet, a hand shot out in front of her. _

"_Need a hand?" _

_She glanced at the hand, following it up the arm until her eyes fell on the face. _

His _face. _

_He had a mop of curly hair, endearing brown eyes, and a smile that held the world. Her stomach dropped as she blinked dumbly up at him, unable to complete the simple action of placing her hand into his. _

_He thrust his hand a little closer, beckoning her to take hold. "I don't bite," he promised, chuckling slightly._

_Emma pulled herself from her stupor, reaching out to take his hand. She found she didn't mind the skin-to-skin contact. She attributed her willingness to the fact that she was already covered in every imaginable germ, but the tingle that rushed down her spine from the simple touch told her otherwise. _

"_Looks like you had a nasty spill there," he noticed, and she followed his gaze to her stinging leg. _

_She winced as the saw the wound, bleeding slightly and covered in tiny chunks of gravel and dirt._

"_Not exactly how I planned my first day to turn out," she muttered, swallowing the lump in her throat. She refused to lose her calm in front of this man. _

_He chuckled again—a warm, comforting laugh, and Emma felt her frustration slowly begin to fade. "I don't think anyone really plans to wipe out on their first day—and by the looks of your sweater, it looks like you've fallen victim to the slushie wars..."_

"_Yeah, I guess I, um, didn't get the memo about that." She found herself at ease with him—a surprise to say the least. Emma had always been reluctant to warm up to people—especially men. "I guess slushie-throwing is a normal occurrence around here?"_

_He laughed once again, and she noticed the way his brown eyes lid up genuinely. "Normal like you wouldn't believe—Principal Figgins has even stopped punishing students for it because it's become so common. In fact, you know something's wrong when you _don't _get hit by a slushie. So consider yourself initiated—welcome to McKinley High."_

"_Note to self—wear rain poncho tomorrow," Emma easily joined the joke, smiling in spite of herself. _

"_Honestly, that should be the dress code around here," the man grinned at her. "So you're obviously new here," he stated, and she blushed slightly as she nodded to confirm it. "Which means you are either the new guidance counselor or PE teacher—and judging by your appearance, I'm going to go with guidance counselor."_

"_Are you sure about that? You don't think I could run a mile in these heels?" She wasn't sure where her unabashed confidence was coming from, but she made no move to rein it in. After all, she hadn't started this new position to mope around and sever herself from the world. This opportunity held a new beginning for her, and she found herself excited to explore this new side of her personality. _

_He laughed again. "I like you," he stated, and his childish way of saying the simple fact had her stomach fluttering. _

"_You're not too bad yourself," she returned the comment, quickly composing herself. The fluttering scared her—just a little. She hadn't banked on forming a lasting bond with anyone here. _

"_I'm Will Schuester," he finally introduced himself, offering her his hand. Her hesitation was hardly noticeable as she reached out to take it. "I teach Spanish."_

"_I'm Emma Pillsbury," she offered. "And, yes, I am the new guidance counselor here—or rather I will be if I manage to clean myself up and get into my office."_

"_It's nice to meet you, Emma," he told her, and she found she liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. He reached for the bag that both of them had failed to retrieve, placing the strap securely over her shoulder._

_She quivered slightly as his fingers brushed her arm. Her confidence faded slowly as her eyes locked with his. She couldn't deny her immediate attraction to this man. _

Only an attraction, _she reminded herself. Just because her body betrayed her feelings didn't mean she would have to act on them. She hadn't left her previous relationship just to get herself into another mess. _

"_So where are you from?" he asked. She was surprised when he began to follow her as she headed to her car. _

"_Virginia," she told him, and his eyes widened in surprise. _

"_That's not a short move—if you don't mind me prying, why'd you come so far from home?" he asked, genuine curiosity lining his voice. _

To forget about my past. _The truth rang in Emma's mind, her heart pulsing as she recalled her motives. __She hadn't bothered to sugarcoat it for herself. She had lived in denial for long enough, and she knew the move to Ohio had hardly been for the available counseling position. _

"_I, um, needed a change, I guess," she explained, her words not a complete lie. "I've been stuck in Virginia my whole life, and I wanted get out and see the world."_

"_And you started with Lima?" he laughed, and she felt her cheeks begin to redden once again. "I hope our exciting town isn't too much for you to handle."_

"_You have a lovely town," she contradicted, feeling the need to defend herself. "Besides, I don't need a lot of excitement in my life. I'm a pretty boring girl."_

"_Now that _I _have to disagree with," he immediately told her, leaning against the side of her car as she opened the trunk. "From the brief time I've known you, I can tell you're a bright and funny woman—who also keeps a full change of clothes in her car..." he trailed off, watching as she draped a khaki pencil skirt, a fresh white blouse, and an embellished orange cardigan over her arm. She watched his eyes widen further in surprise as she pulled out a spare pair of heels from beneath the seat. _

"_What?" she found herself blushing once again. So far, she had done a fair job concealing her germaphobic tendencies from Will—a feat for Emma. It was hard to hide such a large part of her character from others, and she had quickly learned it was an immediate turn-off when encountering new people. She felt a certain sense of pride as she realized she had pulled off "normal" with Will for this long. "You can never be too safe—especially when working with kids."_

_Her light tone to cover her obvious problem was the perfect distraction. Will brushed off any hasty judgment as he laughed once again. _

_She shut the trunk, walking around the car to dig for her first aid kit in the glove department. She placed it securely in her larger bag, turning to smile pleasantly at Will as he continued to watch her. _

"_I know who I'll be going to if I ever forget something," he told her, returning the smile._

_An awkward silence passed between them as they walked toward the building. Though the stinging in her leg had dulled considerably, she was dying to find a bathroom to clean her wound. And change into her fresh outfit. She was shocked to discover she had made it this long without suffering from a mild panic attack. _

_Maybe it was Will, she thought, glancing toward the young man walking beside her. He opened the door and held it open for her when the approached the entrance. He had a calming effect over her, making it easier to concentrate and forget about all the little messes she tried so hard to avoid. _

"_Know where you're going?" he asked as they continued down the main hall of the building. Only a few straggling students remained in the hall—the start of the new school year would officially begin shortly. _

"_Um, not really..." she admitted, glancing around the hallway nervously. _

"_Let me escort you then," he offered, the humorous tone still evident in his voice. A smile played at his lips, and she couldn't help but to grin back as he motioned for her to follow. _

_They arrived at her office moments later—a tidy little room encased by glass panels. She looked down the corridor from the direction they had come from—and with a wave of dread she realized she had been too busy watching Will to notice how exactly they had reached their destination. She'd be just as lost as before when she tried to navigate the school later in the day. _

"_Thanks, Will," she muttered, trying to remember what compartment of her bag she had placed her Clorox wipes in. She didn't dare touch the unfamiliar door knob without sanitizing it first. _

"_My pleasure, Emma," he told her, his words so genuine that Emma couldn't stop her stomach from rising. "Oh, the faculty restroom is down the hall," he pointed in the opposite direction. "And then to the left. Unless you plan on changing behind those glass panels." He winked at her._

_She blushed, laughing in spite of herself. _

"_Thank you," she said again, her hand digging through her bag as she tried to inconspicuously find her wipes. _

"_I'll see you later—oh, what time do you have lunch?" he asked hopefully before disappearing down the hallway._

"_Sixth period," she told him without hesitating. She had long since memorized her schedule. _

_His face brightened. "Me too. Maybe we can eat together?"_

"_I'd like that," she told him, cursing herself as the blush crept to her cheeks once again. He had caused her to blush more in these past fifteen minutes than she had in a lifetime. _

_He bid her farewell, waving enthusiastically, and as he lowered his hand, the sunlight reverberated off the gold band around his finger. _

_A wedding ring. _

_Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected him to be in a relationship—let alone one as committed as marriage—considering the way he had shamelessly flirted with her. Or had that only been her imagination—wistful thinking on her part? Her obvious attraction to Will Schuester could've easily skewed her perception of his actions. _

_The wedding band was good, she told herself as she wiped down the door handle thoroughly before entering her office. She briefly examined the small space before digging out the first aid kit from her bag, holding in it her arms along with the pile of clothing before heading down the corridor to the faculty restroom. _

_Since he was married, it would make things easier. Emma hardly needed to be in a relationship—let alone _wanted _to be in one. Because he was unattainable, it would be easier to deal with the temptation. _

_That was a lie—a lie she was trying to cover with denial. Denial that, despite her vow to remain fiercely independent, despite her wariness from the past that still haunted her, Emma Pillsbury had already fallen hopelessly for Will Schuester. _

XXXX

She shook herself from the memory, bringing herself to the present state of her office. She had lost herself in the task and her bittersweet reminiscing and was shocked to see the late hour as she glanced at her watch.

She took a look at the office—though not perfect, the condition of the small room was doable. Deciding to leave some work to keep her mind busy during the days that remained, she decided to call it day.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she turned off the lights, starting down the empty corridors of the school. Through the windows, she could see impending storm clouds gathering thickly in the hazy afternoon sky. She quickened her pace, thoughts of her warm, safe condo spurring her on.

The wind whipped around her as she stepped through the door into the nearly empty lot. She shivered involuntarily, the strong winds making it unseasonably chilly for June. She hurried to her car, throwing her bag in the back before sliding into the driver's seat. As she turned the key in the ignition, she frowned when the vehicle refused to start. After attempting again, she began to panic slightly until her eyes fell on the gas gauge.

She groaned as she realized it read "empty."

She stepped out into the swirling wind, pulling her cell phone out as she paged through her contact list, wondering if the shop she typically took her car to would even be open at this hour. Her hands shook as she pressed the buttons, wondering what exactly the shop would be able to do for her in this situation even _if _she managed to get of hold of them.

A violent gust of wind swept past her, causing her trembling fingers to lose hold of her phone. It clattered the the pavement, and she shakily bent down to retrieve it. As she stood, she noticed a pair of legs approaching her, lifting her hopes considerably.

Until she followed her gaze to his face.

Her stomach dropped, then rose again involuntarily as she realized it was Will.

* * *

_A/N: A little cliffie for you ;)_

_Thanks so much for the enthusiastic feedback! I really, really appreciate it. _

_I know, I'm torturing you guys by making vague references to her past, but you'll know the full story in no time, I promise. _

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: CirqueDuGleek, lodvg, Honest Reviewer, Mayra, Allie, Wemmafan, Alyssa, and the reviewer who left no name :P _

_And Alyssa had a question that I thought would be best to address here. She was wondering if Emma is talking about this (referring to what happened in her past) with her therapist. _

_Well, I must say, I'm confused on this whole therapist situation, because last thing we heard, Sue was the therapist she was seeing in Bad Reputation, and I doubt those meetings are continuing. So for the sake of this story, Emma has kind of given up on the idea of a therapist for the time being. _

_I hope that answers your question, Alyssa!_


	4. Chapter IV

_Chapter IV_

"Need a hand?" Will asked as he stepped up beside the car.

"No," Emma spat immediately, knowing her actions were childish, but she could hardly make herself care. It figured that of all the faculty members who could've stayed late, the teacher who had stayed behind just had to be Will.

He grimaced slightly, resting his hand against the shiny black hood. "Well, I can hardly leave you here to fend for yourself," he mumbled, earning a glower from Emma as she folded her arms across her chest in frustration. "Do you have any idea what might be wrong?"

She sighed heavily, reluctantly admitting the problem through gritted teeth, "Out of gas." The flush that rose to her cheeks was inevitable.

He laughed, only causing her frustration to rise as she folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child. Of course this would amuse him; Emma hardly let a situation, especially one as manageable as this, slip through her fingers.

"Well, what do you plan to do if you won't allow me to help?" She could tell her stubbornness was feeding his humorous remarks, but she couldn't muster the maturity to relinquish her obstinate attitude. "Walk home? Or wait for an oil well to spring up in the middle of the parking lot?"

She scowled, flipping her hair away from her face as she refused to look at him. "I'll, um, you know, manage..." she trailed off unconvincingly.

He chuckled again. Why did he have to be so _damn _attractive when he smiled like that? She tore her gaze from his face as the fluttering in her heart betrayed her true emotions.

"Em, listen to me." His voice held a more serious tone now; he searched her face in attempt to make eye contact, but she continued to stare at her feet. "Let me give you a ride. We can go back to my apartm—"

"Will!" she shrieked, his name trilling off her tongue. Her anger rose, spilling out into her words. "How dare you even suggest—"

"Jeez, Em," Will cut her off, taking in a deep breath as though his even intake of air might somehow calm her as well. "Can you stop biting my head off for thirty seconds so I can explain?"

She did not soften her glare, but she tactfully kept her mouth closed as he spoke. "Unless you have a container in your trunk to pump the gas into, we're going to have to make a quick stop at my apartment to pick one up. Then we can go to the gas station to fill it up and bring it back here."

Oh.

She licked her lips, chewing on his words. He was being more than rational, but annoyance continued to tug at her gut. "That's, um, nice of you to offer, Will, but I'm sure someone else will be able to, uh, give me a hand..." Her words became more unconvincing by the minute.

"Emma, it's after five o'clock," he attempted to reason with her, the frustration now evident in his own voice. "No one's here. Can you please just let me help? Just as one helpful faculty member to another?"

"Fine," she muttered, locking her own car as she stomped behind Will in the direction of his parked car.

"There." His smile was small but triumphant. "Was that really so hard?" Her face twisted as she opened her mouth, but he promptly cut her off. "Don't answer that, actually. I promise you won't have to spend very much time with me. You can even wait in the car when I run up to my apartment to grab the container if you want."

She chose not to reply, groaning when she realized she had left her bag tucked in the backseat of her car. She stared at the door handle to Will's car, tears brimming in her eyes as she longed for her Clorox wipes.

"Can we go back to my car for a minute?" she whispered hoarsely, afraid that her frustration and anger would send her tears over the edge if she spoke any louder.

"What is it, Em?" Will's voice was filled with more concern than it should've been. He stepped closer to her, and she turned her face away to hide her tears.

He knew her too well. It only took a moment for her minor crisis to register in Will's mind.

"I'll get the door for you, Em," he nearly chuckled, the relief evident in his tone as he realized it was nothing catastrophic. Emma bit her lip, her bitterness tasting vile in her mouth. "It will be a short ride, so you shouldn't need anything from your car. But we can go back if you really want to."

A violent gust of wind answered the question for them. Will quickly opened the door for her as they felt streaks of rain begin to lash through the sky.

Emma was glad to escape the safety of the storm, even if her refuge was the much dreaded interior of Will's car. It wasn't clean, but it wasn't dirty either, she noticed as she looked at the manageable clutter that lined the back seat and the floor.

"So why are you here so late, anyway?" Will asked, attempting to make light conversation as the pair buckled up, driving into the stormy evening.

"Just getting everything organized," she mumbled, caving more quickly than she planned. "I should ask you the same thing."

"Same as you. Last minute grades to enter and a classroom to clean up. And really, I have no reason to rush home. It's a little less lonely to spend the evening in my classroom."

Emma grimaced. He wasn't playing fair, and the guilt settled in her stomach from the regret in his words. But then, why should she be the one feeling guilty? It was his own fault—his own damn fault, and it wasn't fair of him to play her emotions this way. Especially with Carl still in the picture.

Her mouth twitched, and before she could rein them in, her words spewed from her open lips. "Stop it, Will. Just stop. You have no right to make me guilty like this—I know it hurts. I know _damn _well it hurts." She noticed him flinch slightly as she swore, but she continued, brushing off his reaction. "But did you see me playing dirty when you were still married to Terri? Yes, I know that I could've been a lot less obvious about the way I felt about you, but I kept a distance from you—a healthy respect for the relationship you were in. And it's not fair, Will. I'm in a relationship with Carl right now, and you have to respect that. My relationship with Carl is just as real as yours was with Terri, and—and it doesn't matter how you feel about me. It's not appropriate for you to keep throwing yourself at me..." Her voiced faded, the outburst tasting fiery in her mouth. She blinked rapidly to keep her frustrated tears from spilling over.

She wasn't entirely sure how she expected him to react to her outburst—stunned silence like the when she had destroyed his reputation? A declaration of love like in the hallway only a week ago? But he only sighed, averting his eyes from the road as he turned to take a glance at her. "You're right, Em. Absolutely right. I've been out of line, especially when I kissed you—and even now as I continue to pursue you. I want you to be happy, Emma, I really do, and if that happiness doesn't include me in the picture, than I'm willing to deal with this. If Carl is who you want, than who I am to stop you? But I just want you to know how I feel about you." His voice cracked slightly; Emma felt her own throat grow heavy. "I want you to know that I do love you, Emma. That I never meant to hurt you, and I will try my hardest to never cause you pain again. You deserve to know that, no matter how much it hurts you—no matter how much you want to deny it. And I know you think it's unfair of me to tell you this right now, but think how unfair it would be to me if I let you go without you knowing. Go to Carl, Emma, if that's what truly makes you happy, but please don't make your final decision without considering my words."

Will had parked the car in the lot outside, but neither of the two made a move to exit the vehicle.

Emma couldn't remember how to breathe. Her breath hitched in her throat as his words pounded through her. The mixture of anger and longing was hard to distinguish, but as she attempted to sort through the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her mind, she realized one thing. It wasn't Will she was angry at; it was never Will. It was herself she was angry at—for being so weak, for wanting him so much, for allowing everything about him to wound her so deeply.

"I hate myself," she whispered into the stale air of the car, hiding behind her hair as the tears began to spill thickly from her swollen eyes.

"Em, please, don't say that," Will begged her, turning in his seat to face her. She knew her reaction startled him; he had been expecting another heated outburst. In truth, she had been prepared to give him just that, but as the realization hit her, she couldn't put the blame on him any longer.

"No, Will," she choked, staring at the windshield as the heavens opened, thrashing heavy sheets of rain across the glass. "I've been awful—to everyone. To you. To Carl. Even to Ken. I get scared...I get scared when I get hurt, and it makes me act selfishly, and I hate myself for that..."

"Emma," his voice pleaded with her, soft and soothing, and she could only imagine what his face looked like, though she still refused to look. She knew once glance into his compassionate gaze would send her into hysterics. He repeated her name, "Emma. Please."

She glanced toward him, his expression worse than she was prepared for. She stifled a sob, only sounding like a wounded animal as it escaped through her clenched teeth.

"You have no reason to hate yourself. You been hurt, Emma, and when you're hurt, your first instinct is to protect yourself. I know you, Emma. You're not sitting around, sadistically thinking of ways to hurt...us," he grudgingly placed himself into the same grouping as Ken and Carl. Emma gulped in a breath, staring at his face through her watery gaze. "We all make mistakes—and we're all weak, and you can't beat yourself up about it."

His words calmed her, though she hated that he was making her a saint. What had she done to deserve him? He was rooted in compassion, and he cared about her much more than he had ever let on until this point. She had always known that, hadn't she? That Will was a good man—more than a good man. He was the one man that Emma had picked from the sea of others, the one whom she had slowly allowed herself to trust. He had broken that trust, but he was only human, she reminded herself. Just like her. Just like her, he was prone to weakness. Like any other person. She had spent so much time deifying him in her mind that she hadn't been prepared for him to turn out like everyone else.

Except he wasn't just like anyone else. He was Will. _Her _Will. He was the same Will who had spared a few extra minutes on the hectic first day of the school year to help her when she needed a friend. He was the same Will whom she had laughed with on countless occasions as their friendship grew throughout the years. He was the same Will who had remained faithful to his wife—despite the temptations—until she gave him a reason to relinquish his fidelity. He was the same Will who had hurt her in his own dark, confusing time—during a time when he had allowed Emma to see a side of himself she didn't know existed. And somehow, the hurt he had inflicted upon her made him real—no longer was Will the intangible infatuation she had chased after for years, safe behind the barrier his marriage offered. And he was real to her now, pain creasing his face, silently begging for her forgiveness. He had proved to her that he was just as human as any other person, able to hurt her in a heart beat, but he had also proved that his devotion, his will to fight against his human err was stronger. He would fight for her—_she _was worth fighting for—a realization that sent her heart flying. But if she chose to ignore his advances, he would just as easily relinquish the fight to see her happy. He would give up his own happiness for hers.

Her heart swelled, turning to look at the man sitting beside her with a new reverence—a look of adoration that was now well earned. She laughed, ever so softly through her tears, as she remembered telling him she'd never be able to look at him the same. But it was true, she realized as her gaze locked with his surprised eyes. She wasn't looking at him the same way; as her eyes rested on his, she now saw so much more.

"What?" he finally asked, referring to the odd grin she wore on her face. She was surprised, and pleased, to see that he had been able to keep up with her roller coaster of emotions so well.

"It's just," she paused, trying to relay her new found revelation into words. "It's just that I've spent so much time convincing myself that men like you didn't exist."

"Men like me?" Will gaped, and she could feel the blush creep to her cheeks as he continued. "Emma, I'm nothing special...I just care about you," he floundered for the right words. She could tell that he was pleased, but a part of him wished to deny her claim. He was modest—and much too critical of his own faults, not unlike herself.

"You wouldn't believe how much just that matters to me," she muttered, regretting her words as soon as she spoke them. She retreated back into her shell, trying to protect the piece of herself she wished to forget.

Will did not miss the heaviness in her voice, or the way she flinched over her own words. But he was tactful enough to not to pry though the question was obvious in his eyes.

Who had hurt Emma so badly that she now held this skewed perception of men?

He sighed, a mixture of anger and curiosity in his words as he spoke, "Emma, anyone who doesn't care about you—" He stopped, her frantic expression warning him to go no further; the topic was clearly taboo.

The rain continued to pelt down, showing no sign of letting up in the near future. Across the seat divider, Will slowly moved his hand to where Emma's were resting, allowing the tips of his fingers to graze hers.

She locked her eyes with his, and he looked at her sadly. She hated feeling so vulnerable, and she hated that she had let her tightly welded façadecrack ever so slightly. She wasn't looking for sympathy.

"Don't look at me that way," she mumbled, glancing at Will through her thick lashes.

"Like what?" he defended himself immediately, the heavy tension in the car fading as he cracked a subtle smile. "I was just thinking about how beautiful you are right now."

She smiled, her cheeks growing warm. When had anyone ever uttered those words to her with such meaning? He reached out tentatively to tuck a flyaway hair behind her ear.

Her stomach dropped—partially from fear, partially from undeniable longing—as his face moved in closer to hers.

She closed her eyes, fighting internally with her raging emotions as she tried to settle her nerves, attempting to keep her cool as his breath ricocheted off her face.

_Boom!_

A loud clap of thunder caused the pair to jerk apart suddenly.

Will coughed, and Emma could tell he hoped he hadn't pushed it too far. After all, she had been yelling at him with unadulterated venom only a half hour before.

"Ready to go inside?" He asked her, turning in his seat to dig for an umbrella in the back seat.

She nodded, remembering their original intent. The encounter in the parking lot already felt like a distant memory.

Will stepped out from the car, fanning the umbrella out in front of him as he shielded himself from the storm. He hurried to Emma's side of the car, fighting the vicious winds with his fragile umbrella.

"We're going to have to make a run for it," he muttered as he opened Emma's door, a flash of lightening followed closely by another crash of thunder ripping through the darkened sky.

Emma nodded, taking Will's hand without hesitation as he helped her from the car into the raging storm.

* * *

_A/N: A speedy update for you! As always, I really appreciate to know what you think!_

_This isn't at all like this chapter was supposed to turn out, but I think it worked out nicely, yes? :)_

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: Carlie, LS, lodvg, Honest Reviewer, and again to the reviewer who left no name._

_And to Alyssa: I'm glad you don't really hate me. Hopefully this chapter satisfied you :)_


	5. Chapter V

_Chapter V_

The umbrella did little as the pair sprinted across the parking lot to the safety of the awning in front of the building. By time they made it safely under cover, their clothes were blotched with heavy drops of rain.

Emma pushed her hair away from the wetness of her face, shivering in the chilly, dark evening. Will attempted to fold the umbrella, which had been mangled by the violent winds. This storm was certainly more than a typical summer thunderstorm.

Will opened the door for Emma, leading her into the lobby of the building. The cool air conditioning of the room only made Emma shiver harder. Will looked at her sympathetically, ushering her toward the elevators.

They rode up in silence, feeling safe to be out of swirling storm. Will unlocked his apartment, switching on a few lights as they entered. The memories of her brief time spent in the apartment sent Emma's heart racing, and she tried not to think of the other activities that had been going on that very couch as Will offered her a seat.

She continued to shiver as she sat opposite of him. He swiftly took the blanket draped across the back of the couch, wrapping it gently around her shoulders.

"Thanks, Will," she muttered, pulling the knitted material tightly around her slight frame.

"The storm still looks pretty nasty," Will noticed, glancing out the window across the room. "If you don't mind, I'm thinking we should wait it out before going to the gas station and retrieving your car."

Emma nodded, settling back against the cushions, willing herself to be at ease. She had chosen Will, and though there were still complications to work through, she knew that it was now impossible to turn back. The thought of losing Will again made her hurt, and she knew that she was ready to take the halting step to start a relationship with him.

But this time, she wasn't going to allow herself to take things too quickly. She had to wade in the shallow water for a little while before daring to go into the spiraling deep. If she didn't let the water rise too high, she would be able to pull herself out with minimal damage.

"I guess we should see what's going on," Will muttered, turning on the television and flipping to the weather channel. Severe thunderstorm and tornado warnings flashed across the television screen on a red banner. Will glanced at Emma nervously. Emma pulled the blanket more securely around herself.

As if on cue, a deafening roar of thunder tore though the night, causing the lights to flicker. Emma scooted closer to Will, shuddering as another crash quickly followed, this time completely annihilating the power.

In the hazy glow offered by the window, Will found Emma's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She made no move to remove her hand from his comforting grasp.

"Looks like we're going to be stuck here for a little longer than we planned," Will chuckled into the darkness.

Emma allowed a smile to play at her own lips, though her heart continued to pound. She kept her hand twisted in Will's.

"I guess I should go light some candles," Will told her, rising from the couch when it appeared that the lights weren't going to flicker back on anytime soon. "You can wait here if you'd like."

"No, I'll come," Emma told him quickly, rising to follow him into the kitchen. As they drifted further from the window, the hall grew darker. Emma reached for Will's hand, intertwining her fingers tightly with his.

She heart him emit a low chuckle. "Scared of the dark?"

"No," she muttered defensively, pressing her body closer to his as they entered the blackness of the kitchen. "I just don't like it."

He didn't question her further, and he didn't seem to mind Emma's hand in his. With his free hand, he rummaged through the drawers to find a few candles and some matches.

"Here were are," he mumbled, pulling out three unopened scented Glade candles and a pack of matches. Soon, the kitchen was glowing softly in the pleasant light of the candles Will had stationed around the room. The varying scents filled the kitchen with a sweet aroma.

"Want something to drink?" he asked Emma, opening the silent refrigerator. Through the glow of the candles, he squinted at the shelves. "I have water, Sierra Mist, Coors Light," he paused here, letting her consider the choices as he glanced up at Emma. She was sure he could see her blushing, even in the darkness of the kitchen. Emma hardly ever drank alcohol, and the offer made her feel strangely uneasy and naïve.

"Water's fine," she mumbled, taking a sealed bottle from his grasp. He grabbed himself a Sierra Mist.

"Drink up while it's still cold," he told her, unscrewing the lid of his soft drink. "There's no telling how long it will be before the power's back on."

Will's stomach grumbled loudly as he began to sip his beverage. "Guess it is just about dinner time," he laughed, glancing toward the void space where the microwave clock usually blared. "What do you say we scrape something up?"

"What exactly can we make without the power?" Emma asked hesitantly. She had let go of Will's hand, but she still kept in close proximity to him. The sweeping darkness left her feeling uneasy. In her own home, she always kept at least one light on, even at night. The light helped her keep a grip on reality; without it, she found her mind spiraling deep into her past.

"I was thinking we'd have your favorite, actually." He was answered by a quizzical look from Emma. "Peanut butter sandwiches."

She smiled though the veil of darkness, feeling slightly more at ease as Will gathered the necessary ingredients. He washed his hands, and she followed suit.

"You first." Will swept his hand in the direction of the bag of bread. She took her two slices as Will handed her a knife.

"It's been so nice," Will filled the silence with mindless chatter as the two covered their slices in the peanut spread, "having peanut butter in the house ever since Terri left."

Emma wasn't quite sure how to respond; she'd rather he not bring up Terri, but she knew it was inevitable that she would snake her way into conversations. She had been a part of Will's life for the past fifteen years. Nothing could erase that. "I don't know how you survived," she joked, keeping the tone light.

"Not sure how I did either," Will admitted, placing the top slice of bread securely onto his sandwich. He took his knife, covered in a thick layer of peanut butter, and licked the side of the blade.

Emma's eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing as she glued her two pieces of bread together. Smiling to herself, she took her own knife and stuck the dull blade into her mouth.

As she pulled it from her mouth, the peanut butter sticking to her teeth, Will looked at her with a surprised expression. "I didn't expect you to be a knife licker," he grinned at her.

Emma shrugged, placing her used knife in the sink. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

He chuckled, placing his own knife in the sink. "Oh, you missed a little..." he motioned to her upper lip where she had a small patch of peanut butter. Her tongue immediately shot out of her mouth, searching for the residue.

"You're completely missing it," Will laughed, stepping toward her. "Here, let me help..."

He gently brought his hand to her face, easily wiping away the tiny spot from her skin. His hand slowly grazed her face, trailing down her cheek until he reached her chin. He cupped her face, locking his gaze with hers.

Her heart pounded wildly as his face came slowly toward hers, his lips brushing gently against hers. He tasted like peanut butter, making her smile under the softness of his lips.

He broke away after a moment, gaging her reaction hesitantly. She smiled, unable to suppress the pleasure that coursed through her trembling body.

He looked at her, an odd expression in his eyes.

"What?" Emma muttered through her wide grin, glad that he hadn't moved his face very far from hers.

"I guess I just wasn't sure how you were going to react," he muttered, his breath hitting off her face he spoke. "I thought you might hit me or something. Or yell about how you're still dating Carl."

Emma's smile faded slightly, her stomach sinking as she remembered Carl. "Will," she whined, never taking her eyes from his. "You're ruining the moment."

Her head inclined ever so slightly toward his, but it was Will who leaned in to close the space between their faces. This kiss was not as gentle as the last one, but Emma hardly minded. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to kiss him back, letting all her previous pain fade softly away.

She felt content, at least for the moment, as he pulled away, grinning just as widely as she was. They continued to smile like fools as they brought their simple dinner to the kitchen table. As Emma sipped her water, Will's words tugged in the back of her mind.

She frowned. "I'm going to have to break up with Carl."

She looked at Will, who's smile had begun to fade as well. He nodded solemnly.

"Even—even if I hadn't decided to choose you," she glanced at Will through her delicate lashes. The smile was back as he beamed with pride. It made Emma's stomach flutter to know she was wanted in such a sincere way, "it wouldn't be fair of me to keeping leading him on this way...I was going to need to end it sooner or later, regardless." She sighed heavily. Will reached for her hand across the table. "It's going to hurt him..."

"I'm not saying this just because I want you all to myself," here she swatted him playfully across the arm, "but the sooner you do it, the better. The less tangled you become in this relationship, the easier it will be to get out without causing him too much pain."

The silence hung between them as she considered his words.

"Doesn't seem like the storm's letting up anytime soon," she noted, changing the topic. Though the thunder had stopped, the wind still whipped furiously.

"With the tornado warning, I'm not sure that driving around would be the best choice," Will told her, taking their empty plates to the sink to rinse them off.

She immediately caught his drift, an uncomfortable yet wildly excited feeling settling in her stomach.

"I'm not trying to be brash or anything," Will quickly assured her. "But I do think it might be best. I'll change the sheets on my bed for you, and I'll take the couch."

"Oh, no, Will, I wouldn't ask you to do that!" Emma immediately nixed his idea. "I can sleep on the couch, really." Even as she said the words, she knew she was unconvincing. She was such a troubled sleeper that she even had difficulty sleeping in the comfort of her own bed.

"Emma, do me a favor and don't argue with me on this one," Will jokingly begged her, running his hand through his curly hair, obviously planning their unconventional evening in his mind. "Without the power," he reasoned, "there won't be a lot we can do tonight. I was thinking about calling it an early night if that's alright with you."

Emma nodded as he continued. "So how about I get the bed ready while you shower?"

"Sounds like plan to me," Emma smiled at him, feeling more confident than she anticipated about the whole situation. "Wait, does the shower, you know, work properly during a power outage?" Emma asked the question burning in the forefront of her mind.

"I think so," Will told her, thinking about it for a moment. "Though I'm not sure how the heating works—I think you have whatever hot water is left in the tank. It won't hurt to go see."

He took two candles from the kitchen counter, leading Emma down the hall to his bathroom. He placed one of the blazing candles on the vanity top.

"Clean towels are in the basket right there." He pointed toward them wicker basket on the floor across from the toilet. "Soap, shampoo, body wash, the works—they're all in the shower. Oh," he muttered, bending over to open the cabinet under the sink. "I knew I still had this in here." He handed Emma an unopened bottle of Pantene shampoo. "That might suit you better than my Axe shampoo." He winked at her.

She smiled appreciatively, trying not to think about his ex-wife purchasing the shampoo as she took the bottle. He soon left her in the dim glow of the bathroom. She was pleased to see that there was a sufficient supply of hot water, and she gladly washed the grimy rainwater from her hair.

As she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel, groaning she she realized she had nothing clean to change into. She hardly wanted to change back into her stiff school clothes. Feeling small and vulnerable, Emma grabbed the candle from the vanity, hiking her towel up on her wet body, setting out down the hall to find Will.

He had just finished changing his bed, and he turned suddenly as Emma let out a small cough, appreciative that he couldn't see her red cheeks in the darkness.

"Everything okay, Em?" he asked her, approaching her in the doorway. From the flickering of her candle, she could tell that he was blushing, too.

"I, um, just don't really have anything to change into..." she trailed off helplessly, averting her gaze from his.

Will laughed. "You're more than welcome to wear a large t-shirt of mine if you feel comfortable with that." He took a moment to rummage through his bureau drawers. "Will this work?" He held up a baggy t-shirt, the writing on the front indistinguishable in the darkness. "It's clean."

She nodded, taking the shirt from his grasp as she headed back to the bathroom. She grudgingly wore her soiled undergarments, feeling uncomfortable with the thought of going commando even under the cover of Will's shirt.

She reentered the bedroom, looking especially fragile in his much too large shirt. "I like that look on you." He grinned at her through the darkness.

Emma scowled, too tired to come up with an appropriate comeback. She yawned loudly, earning a smirk from Will. "Ready for bed?"

She nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. It was impossible to tell what time it was, and though Emma wore a watch, her eyes were too tired to make out the tiny numbers.

"Well, you know where the bathroom is," Will clarified, " and if you need anything else, don't hesitate to come out and get me."

She gave him an appreciative smile through the darkness, feeling only slightly uneasy as she crawled under the covers of the unfamiliar bed. He bent over to blow out the candle, a rush of panic sweeping through her. "Can you leave it burning?" she asked him in a timid voice.

"Of course, Emma," he told her pleasantly, allowing the little flame to continue to dance. He crossed the room, stopping by the edge of the bed. "Pleasant dreams." He leaned over to brush his lips softly against her forehead.

Her heart fluttered as she snuggled beneath blankets, drifting off more easily than she anticipated.

XXXX

_The apartment was torn to shreds, beyond recognition, though Emma still knew exactly where she was. She stepped hesitantly around the mess, her heart pounding as her greatest fear was confirmed. _

_He was looking for her. _

_The front door clicked open, sending Emma into a frantic panic. She needed to get out. She hurried down the hallway, tripping over piles of clutter. She threw open the first door her hand could grasp, the overwhelming red décor flashing through her eyes. The mahogany drawers from the expensive dresser lay mangled across the floor with the clothing thrown wildly from them. She recognized articles of her own clothing, dotting the white carpet like splotches of paint. _

_She heard him, stomping down the crowded hallway. "Emma," the voice spat. "I know you're in there."_

_She heard his hand twist against the knob of the door. Her eyes darted around the bedroom, falling on the bathroom door. She ran, her legs feeling like lead as she managed to push her body behind the door. She fumbled with the lock, sighing heavily as it clicked into place. _

_She braced her full body weight against the door, clamping her eyes shut as he began to pound against the door. "Emma, why do you keep hiding? I loved you—I know you remember that." _

_She remembered. She remembered well that it had all been a lie. And she knew what he would do to her if she allowed him past the door._

_Even through her tightly closed eyes, she could still see his face all too clearly. Sandy blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, a smile that even she had fallen for..._

_He continued to jiggle the door, and as soon as she turned, daring to look up to make sure the lock was still in place, the wooden door began to slowly dissolve. _

_A scream tore through her throat. _

"_Don't bother screaming," he told her, his voice growing closer as the door continued to shimmer. "No one will hear you, Emma. And even if they did, no one would care enough to help you. Nobody cares, Emma. Nobody cares."_

"_Go away, go away, go away," she shrieked, closing her eyes at the door disappeared from view, sending her into a spiral of blackness..._

_...and all of a sudden a softer, much gentler voice was calling her name, though it grew more frantic as Emma continued to fall in the darkness. _

"Emma! Can you hear me? Emma?"

Her eyelids flew open, frantically trying to adjust to the darkness around her. Was he still here? And where had the door gone? A sob tore through her as she pulled the comforter closer to her, realizing in the dim light of the still flickering candle that it was white, not crimson red.

She relaxed slightly as she emerged from the dream, noticing Will sitting beside her on the bed for the first time. He continued to say her name, pulling her closer and closer to reality.

"Will," she whispered hoarsely, instinctively reaching out to him. He scooted closer to her, taking her hand gently in his. But that was not enough. She wanted his arms around her; she wanted him to rock her until her nightmare went away. She buried her head in his shoulder, another sob tearing through her trembling body. His arms slowly snaked around her, and she relaxed against him, her breathing beginning to steady. "What happened?" she muttered into his neck.

"I woke up to you screaming," Will explained, beginning to softly stroke her damp hair. "So I ran in here, only to find you still asleep and entirely inconsolable. It scared me, Em," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

_It scared me, too, _she shuddered, pressing herself closer to Will. Safe in his arms, it made it easier to forget.

"I'm sorry," she managed to mumble into the darkness.

"Don't be sorry," he immediately chastised her, tightening his grip around her shaking form. "I'm just glad you're okay." He let the silence settle around them, continuing to run his fingers through her hair. "Was it just a nightmare?" he dared to ask.

"Yes," she muttered, though 'just' could hardly begin to describe it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The word sent another bout of panic through Emma's body. "No," she answered much too quickly. "Not really...I'm not even sure I remember exactly what I was dreaming about..." She only wished she erase to crystal clear pictures and articulate words from her memory.

He didn't push her, beginning to rock her gently in the darkness. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, letting her fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. She soon found herself growing drowsy, her heavy eyelids drooping as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

She felt his arms loosen as he gently placed her back against the pillows. As soon as he let go, her eyes flew open, her frightened words flying from her lips. "Please don't go, Will. At least not yet," she begged, the terror from the nightmare creeping closer as she imagined being alone in the darkness.

His arms found their way around her once again. He held Emma against him, promising her fiercely. "I'm not going anywhere."

He slipped under the covers with her, cocooning them both in the pure white comforter. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll chase all your bad dreams away."

Emma smiled faintly, resting her cheek against his chest as she closed her eyes. For the first time in nearly five years, Emma fell asleep without the fear of nightmares.

* * *

_A/N: Can your reviews make me any happier? No, no they cannot. So keep giving me this awesome feedback. You guys rock. _

_Expect a lot of speedy updates. I'm on a writing spree, and I have a certain part of this story I'd like to reach before going on vacation in a week and a half._

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: gleefan, Honest Reviewer, GPR, Allie, Al, and No Name *coughKarencough* ;P_

_And to Alyssa: I just wanted to personally thank you. You reviews never fail to make my day. You always react the way I intend my readers to, and you pick out exactly what I hope all my readers do. So thank you :)_


	6. Chapter VI

_Chapter VI_

"...and I know this is hardly fair of me, but, um, I really do think it's best. Maybe it would just be better if we didn't see each other for a while. Like until my next appointment in three months..."

_Beep!_

The answering machine cut her off. She let out a huff of breath, snapping her phone shut. She knew it was the wimpy way out, breaking up with Carl over a phone message, but she couldn't muster the courage to face him in person. That would've taken weeks of preparation on Emma's part, and she knew Will was right. She needed to end this promptly.

She sighed, leaning back in her desk chair. Her office was completely packed and stowed away neatly until the beginning of next school year, and now she had an ungodly amount of free time stretching ahead of her.

She had woken up that morning with Will's arms still wrapped loosely around her waist. Her first instinct was to panic. But as Will dreamed sweetly beside her, her heart began to slow. She relaxed back against the pillow, allowing herself to settle back into Will's arms.

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, the dripping tree branches the only sign of the violent storm. She lifted her wrist, glancing at the face of her delicate gold watch. Her stomach dropped as she registered the time.

Seven o'clock.

School started in a mere half hour.

"Will!" She shook his shoulders gently. He rolled over, mumbling something unintelligible. "Will!" Her voice was louder this time.

"Whazzat?" Will's eyes fluttered open, squinting at his eyes adjusted to the vibrant sunlight. He turned to Emma, looking confused for a moment, but then his lips curved into a small smile. "Good morning, Emma."

She forgot her panic for a moment as her eyes found his charming smile. "Good morning, Will—but listen, it's already seven, and we're going to be late, and—"

"Calm down, Em," Will told her softly, propping himself up on his elbow. He reached out to give her hand a gentle squeeze, the simple touch stopping her mid-rant. "I expect everyone is running a little late this morning—we aren't the only ones at McKinley who had a power outage. So before you get ahead of yourself, let's at least make sure the power's working again this morning."

She gulped in a breath, looking sheepish. She crawled out of bed, though Will made no move to hurriedly uproot himself from beneath the comforter. "You doing okay this morning, Em?"

With the bright sunlight pouring through the window, the nightmare was now only a faint memory. "Yes. And thank you, Will, you know, for staying with me..."

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'm just glad you're okay, Em," he told her, finally pulling himself out of the bed.

As soon as they left the bedroom, they were greeted by a house full of shining lights that they hadn't bothered to turn off last night in their useless condition.

Emma followed Will into the kitchen, her feet padding softly against the carpeted floor. The candles had burned to the end of their wicks, but the pleasant scent from the wax still hung faintly in the air.

She felt small and vulnerable, still wearing Will's big t-shirt—now seeing in the broad daylight that it was an old McKinley High shirt. But as Will smiled at her, she found she felt a little less awkward. For a moment, she let her mind flash to future where she could wake up every morning, feeling comfy in Will's large shirts without a care.

"I figure," Will started, pulling her away from her brief fantasy, beginning to rummage through the fridge, "since we're already running late, why bother to rush to try to get there on time when it will only be in vain? Let's be properly late if we're going to bother at all. So," he raised his eyebrow, pulling a jug of milk out of the fridge and pouring himself a glass, "what would the lady like for breakfast?"

Emma blushed, letting herself relax as she pondered his suggestion. _What the hell, _she thought, her lips tugging into a smile_. _Considering it was the second to last day of school, they wouldn't be missing much this morning. "What are my options?" Emma asked, walking toward Will and the open fridge.

"Well, I have plenty of cereal. I could also make pancakes or French toast. I know for a fact I have eggs, and if I dig around a bit, I might be able to find some bacon. The fridge wasn't off for too long, so it should still be fresh..."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Well, I don't eat dairy, and greasy breakfast foods have never really sat well with me...would it be okay if we had something simple like toast with jam?"

"Coming right up," Will told her, closing the fridge and heading for the breadbox. Soon, he had two slices of bread placed securely in the toaster.

While they waited for the bread to toast, Will picked up the phone, dialing the school's number so he could inform Figgins that they would not arrive until later.

"What kind of jelly would you like?" Will asked her, motioning her over to the fridge once he completed his phone call. "I have grape, strawberry, and apricot—though I'm not sure how fresh the apricot is. I think that's been in here since before Terri left, actually..."

"Strawberry's fine," she informed him as he brought the jam to the counter just as the bread popped out of the toaster.

"That's my favorite, too," Will grinned at her as he placed the toast on their respective plates.

They spread their jam in silence. When their toast was loaded with the fruity jam, Will looked at Emma with a raised eyebrow. "Do you lick your jelly knives, too?"

Emma laughed, glancing down at the red blade. "You're just looking for an excuse to kiss me again, aren't you?"

"Darn, how'd you guess?" Will laughed, licking his own knife suggestively.

"You'll have a little more cleaning up to do this time. Jelly's messier than peanut butter," she winked at him, the words falling naturally from Emma's mouth as she skimmed the jelly knife across her lips, feeling the jam settle into her skin.

His mouth came hungrily down in hers. Her stomach jolted as she felt his tongue lick away the sticky residue on her lips. This strawberry flavored kiss was even better than the peanut butter one.

But as Will pushed Emma's back against the counter top, a uncomfortable knot formed in her gut. It felt nice—too nice to have Will kissing her this way, and it scared her that something she had taught herself to repel in the past could suddenly feel so right now.

She turned her her face away, taking a shaking breath as she tried to clear her mind. Will glanced at her, wearing a concerned expression on his face. "Are you okay, Em?"

"Of course." He voice was an octave too high as she said the words. "Just getting eager to eat this delicious toast..."

He let it drop, carrying his plate to join her at the table.

After breakfast, the pair took turns in the shower. Emma hardly minded putting yesterday's outfit back on once she remembered she had a spare change in her car back at the school lot. Will grabbed the container they intended to fill with gas, and by the time they made it from the gas station to the school, it was already after nine o'clock.

She hadn't seen him again during the day. Emma had skipped lunch in order to finish packing her office, now, as the day drew to an end, Emma kept anxiously glancing through the glass panels, waiting for him to stop by.

When it became clear that he was not coming, Emma's heart dropped a little. But it was nothing to blow out of proportion, she reminded herself. It was hardly part of their schedule to bump into each other any longer, and Emma had expected too much.

She still couldn't help but to feel slightly hurt as she gathered her bag, stepping out the door. Had she done something to upset him? She ran through her thoughts, the only questionable act of the morning being the jelly kiss. Was he frustrated because of her prompt pull away? Her stomach grew heavy, burdened with a sudden feeling of inadequacy.

She stepped down the empty hallway, sunlight dancing across the linoleum floor. She could hardly believe that it had only been yesterday she had walked down these same halls, darkness suppressing her on all sides as the impending storm loomed.

"Emma!" The familiar voice startled her as she turned sharply on her heel.

Will.

"Will." She could not hold back her smile as she uttered his name. He approached her from the opposite end of the hallway, returning her smile.

"Trying to sneak out on me?"

Emma blushed, suddenly feeling guilty for her lack of confidence in him. "I thought you'd left," she admitted.

"Never," Will told her, the implied meaning behind the word speaking much deeper to Emma. Her heart surged with pride as he stated the simple promise. "So I was wondering if you'd like to do something this afternoon?"

She looked up at him, wanting nothing more than to leave every piece of herself behind to be with him. But there were things that needed to be sorted through first. "Will, I called Carl today."

She could see his face sink visibly at just the mention of her dentist boyfriend.

"I called him today to break up with him." Her voice cracked slightly as she said the words, searching for Will's eyes.

"How did that go?" Will managed to ask her, the tension between them hanging thickly.

"He didn't, um, pick up...so I left a message." Her eyes darted away from his, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry this is turning out to be such a mess..."

"No, don't apologize, Emma," he pleaded with her. "We both know this is partially my fault as well...and I'm going to be patient while you sort this out."

"Thanks, Will," she mumbled appreciatively. He never failed to be so understanding. "Knowing Carl, it shouldn't be too long before he...calls me back," she forced the words from her lips. "And I promise I'm not going, you know, drag this out..."

"Everything will be fine, Emma," he assured her. "Give me a call if you need to talk about anything," he offered.

"I appreciate that, Will," she told him genuinely, regretting that their encounter had to be cut so short. She was anxious to get the Carl mess out of the way. Being with Will came almost naturally for her, a relief after her past relationships.

For once, she was ready to make something go right in her life.

XXXX

Three days passed, and Carl did not call her.

But Will did.

"What am I supposed to do?" she screeched frantically into the phone.

"First, you need to take a deep breath." Will's sweet voice managed to calm her, even through the barrier of the phone.

She complied, gulping in a breath of air as she sat down heavily on her couch. "And?" she demanded a bit more forcefully than she intended.

"Nothing," he told her.

She felt her anger and panic rise swiftly. "Nothing? What do you mean by 'nothing,' Will?"

"Deep breathes, remember?" It was only aggravating her more that he managed to stay so calm. A part of her wanted him to yell right back. "It's only been three days, Emma, and though Carl has proven to be very...forward in the past, I think its best if you give him at least a full week before you start bugging him again. It's hard when someone wants to break up with you, especially when the person tells you over the phone..."

The guilt settled deep into her core. "I guess I'm just a bitch now, right?" She regretted letting her irritation seep into her conversation with Will, but she was just about at her wits' end.

His startled silence only made her feel more irritated. He spoke after a moment. "Listen, Em, I'm sorry I said that. But honestly, you need to give him a little bit of time before you ambush him. I know you—you like to be in control of situations, and please don't take that the wrong way," he added hastily. "And right now you're dealing with the fact that you're not. And that's okay, Emma. You just need to relax and let things fall into place."

She bit her lip, allowing herself to calm down before she answered him. He was right. And he knew her too damn well. "Thanks, Will," she muttered. "Why do you always have to be right?" she added as an afterthought.

He chuckled noticeably through the receiver. "Trust me, Em, if I were always right, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

For a moment, Emma let her mind wander to an alternate universe where Will had not fallen victim to his own weak desires. Where would that have left their own relationship? Would she and Will have progressed into a normal relationship months ago, or would Emma have found another excuse to panic?

She knew one thing: If Will hadn't hurt her, he would've never had the chance to redeem himself to allow Emma to view him in the new light she now did. Will's mistake had caused Emma's love for him to grow stronger and more tangible that she had ever imagined.

"I think it's okay that we're not always right," she mused. "You know, sometimes it's our mistakes that allow us to become a better person."

Will chuckled through the phone. "One minute you're screeching your head off, the next you're getting all philosophical on me. Honestly, Em, do your emotions come with a manual, because sometimes I just can't figure you out..."

She smiled. "Truthfully, Will, I've been having just as much trouble figuring myself out..." she trailed off, suddenly remembering that it was he who had called her, not the other way around. "What is it that you wanted to talk about anyway? You know, before I had my little outburst..."

"Oh, it was nothing," he quickly assured her. "Nothing at all."

XXXX

Sure enough, Carl called two days later, as Emma was beginning her first cleaning spree of the summer.

Her fingers curled around her vibrating cell phone, and suddenly she cursed herself for being to anxious for him to call in the first place.

"Hello," she muttered into the receiver, pacing around the kitchen, twisting her dusting rag in her free hand.

"Hey, Emma," Carl told her, his voice a bit too cheerful to be genuine. "Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Your message just came as...a bit of a shock."

Emma's heart sank, imagining sweet Carl breaking over her inconsiderate voice mail. "I'm really sorry, Carl..."

"No, no, don't start apologizing. But I was wondering, do you want to come over for a bit tonight? I'd rather talk with you in person if you wouldn't mind..."

Emma gulped, the thought of personal confrontation making her stomach hurt. But she owed him this much. "How about I come over around seven?" she forced the words through her tight throat.

"That's perfect," he told her.

They exchanged awkward goodbyes, and Emma had never been so relieved to hang up her phone. She leaned against the counter top, trying to sort through her emotions. And then her phone began to buzz again.

At first, she thought it was Carl, calling back to switch the time or something of the sort. But as she glanced down at the screen of her phone, another name flashed across the screen.

Will.

She flipped open her phone too quickly. She shouldn't have been this eager to talk to him, especially after her conversation with Carl. But the thought of hearing his voice made everything suddenly better.

"Will, hi," she answered, trying not to immediately unload on him like last time. He obviously had his own reason for calling, and she was not about to briskly cut him off.

"Hey, Em," he told her, and she could hear him smiling through the receiver. "You sound good."

She bit back a laugh, glad that she was somehow managing to hold herself together. "So what's up?" she asked casually.

"Well, I just wanted to see how you were holding up," he admitted, his genuine concern sending a warm feeling through Emma's stomach. "And I was also wondering if you wanted to maybe do something together tonight? Not as a date or anything, but just as something for you to do to get your mind off this Carl thing for a little bit. I know it's making you more anxious than it should, and I thought a little distraction until he calls might do you some good." He stopped to catch his breath, and Emma could almost imagine his eager expression.

She inwardly groaned. Why hadn't he called to do this _last _night? She knew she couldn't very well cancel her 'date' with Carl, though the thought was tempting.

"Will," she sighed, slowly picking her words. "Carl just called."

"Oh."

"Yeah, and he would, um, like to talk to me in person this evening, so I agreed. I'm really sorry we can't do something together—you know I'd much rather do something with you..."

"No, don't be sorry," Will quickly told her. "This is a good thing, Emma, that this is happening tonight. Besides, we have the whole summer to spend together."

The way he said the words left her feeling hopeful, though the impending meeting with Carl nearly smothered her. "Will, I'm a little nervous about, you know, talking with him tonight..."

"You'll be fine, Emma. I know it's hard for you, thinking about hurting someone, but you can do this in a firm and confident way that's not down right mean. You need to go there with your intentions clearly in mind so he won't be able to sway you with guilt. I know you can do this. Just let yourself be confident, no matter what he says to you," Will told her, offering her just the advice she needed.

"Thanks, Will. You make it sound so easy," she sighed.

"It is easy," he joked with her. "Just think about getting me in the end—isn't that motivation enough?"

"You're so egotistical," she laughed, though his words rang with truth. Will was the end prize to all of this, and it make it easier for her imagine the outcome with such a tangible reason. "If I could smack you right now, I would."

He chuckled lightly. "I guess I would deserve that. You'll just have to save your physical abuse for the next time you see me."

"Which will be really soon," she added. "Because I'm ready to end this. I'm ready to finally stand up for what I really want."

"That's the spirit, Em," Will encouraged her. "You don't have to call me tonight or anything, but I would like to hear from you in the next few days, if that's okay—I wouldn't mind knowing how this ends up going."

"Of course," Emma promised him easily. "I'll let you know as soon as I can. Bye, Will."

"Bye, Em," he breathed through the phone; Emma's heart noticeably fluttered.

She snapped her phone shut, wrapping her arms around herself, grinning hugely. This was all she had ever wanted, ever since her first day a McKinley—no, longer, she realized. This was the kind of love she had always wanted, even long before Will had walked into her life.

She sighed, the bleak reality of her evening setting as she noticed Carl's flowers beginning to wilt by the window sill. Though her conversation with Will had left her with a sense of confidence, the fact still remained that Emma would inevitably end up hurting Carl, no matter how kind or understanding she presented herself.

The confrontation was still hours away, and Emma knew that she desperately needed to keep herself busy lest she go crazy. Never before had she been so grateful to have the whole house to clean. She set to work, starting with Carl's flowers. With hardly any qualms, she dumped the corroding blossoms into the trash can. With them out of sight, Emma was able to throw herself into the project without hesitation, losing herself in the repetitive task.

XXXX

She was once again at a loss at what to wear.

She certainly didn't want to dress to impress, but wearing one of her school outfits made her feel as though she were taking too much of a business-like approach. She settled for a dark blue dress with a moderately high neckline, paired with a navy J. Crew cardigan and a pair of matching heels. She kept her hair down with her usual bang flip, glancing at her appearance in the mirror. It would do.

She took in a deep breath, trying in vain to calm her nerves as she tried to come to terms with what she was about to do. She remembered the words she had told Will.

_I'm ready to finally stand up for what I really want. _

Didn't she deserve that much? She had sacrificed so much, compromised herself in so many ways in the past that the thought of settling for a situation she didn't desire hardly seemed fair.

She sighed, picking up her purse as she left through the front door. It felt strange, driving the same familiar roads that she had taken with Carl only days previously, now very much alone.

As she stepped out of the car, her heels clicked against the pavement as the evening sun began to dye the sky a pleasant shade of pink. She stopped in front of the building, suddenly feeling nauseous at the thought of entering. She dug through her purse, picking out her cell phone a moment later with every intent to call Will.

But after paging through her contacts and preparing to press the call button, Emma clicked her phone shut, biting her lip as she replaced the phone in her purse. This was her battle, not Will's, and it was time for her to face it on her own.

She walked determinedly to the elevator, arriving at Carl's floor only moments later. It took every ounce of will-power not to run away as she knocked hesitantly against his door.

It clicked open a moment later, revealing Carl standing before her. The stubble on his face looked a little more grown out than usual, but he looked pretty good, otherwise, considering the circumstances. "Hey, Emma, come on in."

She cautiously stepped over the threshold, hugging her purse tightly to her side. Carl smiled faintly at her, and she had to remind herself of her firm intentions. She could not allow herself to cave under any circumstances.

"Have a seat," he offered, motioning for Emma to join him on the couch. They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Carl spoke. "Listen, you sounded pretty upset and confused on your message you left the other day. You've always seemed a little...tense during this brief time we've been dating, but I attributed that to your mysophobia," he addressed her condition easily. After all, he had known for years that she suffered from this anxious condition because he had her medical records. "But I understand now that there was probably a lot more to it...a lot more that I still don't even know now. But I overlooked that, Emma, because I was so confident that our relationship was progressing nicely—and for me, it was. And it clouded my perception of how you were handling it, and I want to apologize for that."

"Carl, it's not you. I want you to know that. It's just that—"

"Emma, you don't need to explain yourself. And I'm not even asking you to share your insecurities with me right now. But I want you to know that I'm not ready for this to end yet. These past few weeks have been some of the best weeks of my life, Emma, and I want to make the effort to make these weeks ahead the best for you. I want us to be able to talk about things that make you uncomfortable—within reason, of course—and I want to do my best to make this as comfortable and enjoyable for you as I can." He paused for a breath, looking expectantly at Emma.

It took her a moment to realize she hadn't been breathing, and the panic rose quickly as she took in a shallow breath. "Carl, that's really sweet of you. And I appreciate your offer so, so much. And I want you to know that I haven't been unhappy during these past few weeks, but it would be a lie to tell you that it's what I want. Carl, you're a great man, but I'm—I'm not a great woman, especially because of what I'm doing now, and it would only be fair of me to end this before I hurt you more..." She felt tears of frustration and guilt brim at the corners of her eyes. This was certainly not going as smoothly she had planned.

"Shh, Emma, don't cry," Carl immediately tried to console her. "Of course you're a great woman, and it makes me sad to see you tell yourself otherwise." He reached to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye through her wet lashes. "But Emma, if this isn't what you want, then who am I to force you into a relationship just because it's what _I _want? Emma, I want you to be happy, even if that means giving you up."

The words paralleled with Will's so closely that Emma couldn't help but to feel a minor flash of déjà vu. He was making it much harder for her than she had anticipated. Why did he have to be so good to her?

"Carl, that means so much to me. And as much as it hurts me to let a sweet guy like you go, I know that trying to work through this relationship would just end up hurting us both in the end..." she sighed, letting him down as gently as she could manage.

She could hear the tightness in his throat as her answered, "I hope you end up happy, I really hope you do. And I understand that right now, it's time for us to go our separate ways, but just remember that I'm here if you ever change your mind. I care about you, Emma. I care about you a lot," he choked out the last words, causing Emma's own chest to tighten.

Emma reached out hesitantly to place a hand on his shoulder, trying in vain to comfort him in this pain that she had caused him. He cared about her, and she knew they were just not words. His earlier assessment, his obvious concern for her comfort and happiness proved that. She felt uneasy as his eyes watered obviously, unsure how she would be able to hold herself together if he lost it.

"Emma, can you please leave now?" he whispered hoarsely, unable to catch her gaze.

She nodded, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment as she rose from the couch.

Misery and guilt ate at her core as she stepped out of the room, her eyes stinging as she tried to hold in her tears. By the time the elevator reached the main level, she had caught her breath. She had known this would hurt Carl; just seeing the full effects had been harder than Emma had banked on. But she had done it. She had done what she had come for, and though she hadn't pulled it off with as much finesse as she had hoped, she had been able to do it in a very gentle way. Carl had been much more cooperative than she had planned, making it much easier, though much, much harder in some ways.

She felt very much alone as she stepped into her dark, immaculate condo, the heavy scent of cleaning products still hanging thickly in the air. She collapsed against the couch, the plastic covering squeaking beneath her. She had planned on giving herself a few days before contacting Will, but the loneliness and regret gnawed at Emma's gut. Suddenly, solitude seemed overwhelming. She had spent too many years hiding by herself, trying to handle these difficult situations on her own.

She wanted someone. She wanted someone to help her through her struggles for a change.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she dialed Will's number.

* * *

_A/N: Meh. This is what I call a filler/get-rid-of-Carl-chapter. _

_Though you know the basic premise of this fic, you are probably curious to know exactly where I plan to go with it at this point. I'll give you this much: No, I do not have thirty more chapters planned that will elusively make references to Emma's mysterious past that will only cause you all to want rip your hair out. It will be time to shake things up soon._

_Thanks everyone for your support!_

_Thanks anonymous reviewers: D, Geekygleek, Carlie, Anne, Honest Reviewer, and melissa._

_To lodvg: I'm always open for suggestions, even when I have a pretty set plot line. It's always nice to hear what my readers want to read, and I do consider each suggestion. Your idea is actually along the lines of what I plan to write. _

_And to Alyssa. Can I love you anymore for picking out the symbolical use of red and white? No, no I cannot. _


	7. Chapter VII

_Chapter VII_

"Is my outfit okay?" Emma asked hesitantly, glancing down at her unlikely attire. Khaki capris, a ruffled pink tank top, and flat white sandals embellished with plastic daisies. Though the clothes were far from shabby, they were certainly a step down from her typical attire.

"It will be fine, Emma," Will laughed, opening the car door for her. She took in his own attire—a navy tee that hugged his sculpted chest, a pair of cargo shorts, and a pair of old sneakers. "I just set a dress code because I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable in a skirt and heels, that's all."

"You know I hate surprises, Will," Emma sighed, buckling in as Will started the car.

"I know you do," Will grinned at her, "which is why I went through all this trouble to keep it from you. You need to lighten up, Emma. Enjoy the unexpected twists life throws at you."

She grimaced, shooting him an annoyed look. But she could not stop the thrill that ran through her. Surprises with Will seemed oddly appealing.

"What do you have in the bag anyway?" Will asked, referring to the large tote that rested at her feet.

"My life," she joked, though it wasn't far from the truth. "Since you left me no clues about where we're going to today—excluding your evasive 'wear something comfortable,' I had to be prepared for anything. So I have an extra change of clothes, Clorox wipes, hand sanitizer, sunscreen..."

"I'm hoping you won't need a change of clothes, and I expected you to bring as much as the wipes—but I threw some in the back just in case." Emma smiled at him, her stomach rising as she realized that he was looking out for her. "But the sunscreen—now you're making me mad I didn't think of that. I should've guessed just by looking at you that you probably fry in the sun, and looking at the weather today, sunscreen will definitely be a good investment."

Emma looked out the car window, smiling as they drove through the beautiful summer morning. It had been a week since she had broken up with Carl, and he was already beginning to feel like a distant memory. She fought to keep a piece of his pain with her. It only seemed fair that she be reminded of his hurt, reminded of what she had done to him. She hoped that Carl would find the happiness she now had in Will—and that he would come to realize that there was someone much better fitted for him than she was.

Will's 'surprise' date had come up two days ago, and Emma had to wonder how long he had been planning this. She honestly couldn't even begin to guess where he was taking her, and she found the whole idea to be frustrating yet exciting at the same time.

Soon, they pulled up to a woodsy area. The stretch of gravel could hardly be described as a parking lot, and Emma could not find another car in sight. Will parked the car, walking over to Emma's side before she had the chance to open the door herself. As he helped her from the car, she gave him a quizzical look.

"We have to walk a little bit to get where I want to take you," he admitted. "But there's a pretty well established path, and the walk is less than a mile."

She hesitated, looking down at her sandal clad feet and then to the forest ahead of her. She had never been much of a hiker, and any walk in the woods, even on a well cleared path, left her feeling slightly uneasy.

Will reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll go as slowly as you need to. We have the whole day ahead of us."

She nodded, taking in a deep breath. She knew Will was excited about this, and she was not about to show her disappointment.

"Wait," she told him, beginning to dig through her bag. "Sunscreen."

"I thought you already put some on this morning," Will reminded her.

"No, I like to, um, wait until it's absolutely necessary...I'm not a big fan of how oily it makes my skin feel..." she explained, unearthing the tube of 60 SPF infant Coppertone**.**

Will laughed as she squirted the thick cream onto her pale arm. "Baby sunscreen?"

"What?" she mumbled, a flush creeping to her cheeks. "It works well...and it's great for sensitive skin."

He continued to smile as she slathered every visible patch of skin with the substance. She struggled slightly with the exposed parts of her back.

"Here," Will offered, taking the tube from her. "Let me give you a hand."

He squeezed the sunscreen onto her back, causing her to shiver as he began to gently rub it into her skin. He took longer than necessary, rubbing slowly and methodically, and Emma found she didn't want him to stop. He reached for her neck, continuing his soft massaging, when suddenly his brow furrowed. "What's that?" He fingered a pink patch of skin that ran from her hairline down her neck. "It looks like a scar from a burn or something..."

She stiffened, pulling away and covering her neck quickly with her hair.

"Is everything okay, Emma?" Will looked taken back by her startled reaction.

"I'm fine," she assured Will, approaching him after a moment. "Sorry about that. I got that from, um, a bad curling iron burn a couple years ago," she offered him an explanation he hadn't even pushed for.

"Ouch," Will told her, making the appropriate face.

Emma's stomach twisted uncomfortably, suddenly finding herself eager to begin their hike. She started toward the visible path, expecting Will to follow.

"Wait a minute," Will told her, still standing near the car. "I have a few things I have to grab from the trunk."

He slung a cooler over his shoulder and draped a faded blue blanket over his arm.

"A picnic?" Emma guessed, her lips curving into a small smile. She felt a little less anxious as Will's plan began to fall into place.

He nodded. "Though the location is still a surprise." He grinned at her, lacing his fingers through hers as he led her down the path.

Though it was well established, Emma got the feeling that the path had not been utilized in some time. The dirt from the path soon began to settle between her toes. She wrinkled her nose, stopping as she tried to shake the dust from her sandals.

"Sorry," Will apologized. "I should've told you to wear sneakers."

"I don't have tennis shoes," she admitted. "In fact, most of my closed toed shoes are at least two inches high, so I'm wearing my best walking shoes anyway."

Will laughed, leading Emma carefully along the path. "Well, I already have our next date planned: Dick's Sporting Goods. Maybe we can find you a pair of hiking boots."

"I'm not sure I have anything in my wardrobe that will match with those." Emma easily joined the joke, the conversation distracting her as her toes became dirtier.

"What is with you girls choosing fashion over comfort?" Will sighed, rolling his eyes.

Emma rolled her eyes just as dramatically in response. The hike in the woods was proving to be surprisingly enjoyable. Their conversation slowly fizzled out as they walked deeper into the forest. The sunlight streamed through the patches of leaves, bathing the forest floor in a soft glow of sunlight. The trees branched around them like an endless maze, the beauty feeling surreal as they lost sight of the road they had left behind.

They soon reached the end of the path, and as Will led Emma into the clearing, she gasped when she saw a small lake stretching out before them. The calm water shimmered delicately in the sunlight, the brilliant blue water looking like an oil painting.

Will spread the blanket a fair distance from the shore, motioning for Emma to join him. As she dug in her bag for Clorox wipes to clean her dirty feet, Will told her, "My dad used to take me here all the time when I was a kid. We came most weekends, actually, sometimes just to get a break from my mom..." he trailed off, and from the brief times that Emma had seen Will's parents at the Acafellas shows, she could only guess that his mother's drinking habit had always been a problem. "We'd talk sometimes, and other times we'd just fish. My best memories of my dad are the times we spent here. It used to be a lot more crowded, but it looks like everyone has all but forgotten this place."

"It's beautiful, Will," Emma told him as she finished wiping her feet. "Definitely worth the hike."

"You know," Will told her, leaning against his elbow as he turned to her, "for knowing you for almost three years now, I hardly know anything about you."

"You know a lot about me," she contradicted, propping her own body against her elbow. "I'm a nut who hates messes and likes J. Crew a little too much for her own good," she joked.

Will laughed. "There's a lot more to you than that," he assured her, "but what I meant was that I don't know much about your past." She visibly stiffened as he said the word. "I know you're from Virginia, and you wanted to be a dairy farmer until your brother pushed you off the runoff lagoon when you were eight, but your time before becoming a guidance counselor at McKinley is a mystery to me."

There was a reason for that, she thought bitterly, averting her eyes from his. She had worked hard erase as much of herself as she could upon moving to Lima, and Will's minimal knowledge of her past was proof that she had somewhat succeeded. "There's not much to tell, really, Will..." she muttered, picking at a blade of grass near the blanket's edge.

"Come on, Em," Will encouraged her, missing the tension. "You know practically all there is to know about me—I've lived in Lima my whole life, I'm an only child, and I ended up marrying my high school sweetheart...at least give me the bare minimal. I'm curious."

She sighed, giving in as he pleaded further with his warm brown eyes. If she carefully chose what to share, she wouldn't end up regretting anything. "I grew up in Grundy, Virginia, just down the road from a dairy farm. My father owned a small repair shop where he mostly fixed up old cars and broken tractors. My mother stayed at home, raising me and my older brother, Tom. I went through all my schooling there—all the way through college, and then I ended up here. I told you it wasn't very interesting..."

"No, no, I'm intrigued," he told her. "I know for a fact you didn't touch on even a fraction of your life. And Emma Pillsbury, I am determined to know you inside and out," Will pressed on, and she knew this conversation was far from over.

"Fine," she sighed, realizing his intentions were genuine no matter how reluctant she was to delve into the life she had left behind. "What else do you want to know?"

"So you have just one sibling—Tom?" She nodded. "And he's older?"

"Yes, I just have Tom. He's a little less than two years older than me..."

"Was it hard for you, you know, living with him after the dairy farm incident?" Will dared to ask her.

"I never really held it against him," she admitted. "He was always much harder on himself than I was. He went through his share of guilt because of what had happened. I felt guilty myself that my condition messed Tom up...he never intended for things to turn out that way; it was a stupid mistake after all, and I don't think he really ever meant to push me hard enough to send me over the edge of the lagoon."

"Does Tom still live in Virginia?"

She nodded. "He's been married for almost five years now, and he has two kids, Olivia, who is...four now, I think, and Benjamin, who's probably about a year."

"Do you see them often?" Emma could hear a subtle touch of jealousy in his words.

"Not really," Emma admitted. "You're going to think I'm awful, but I haven't gone back to visit since I've moved here...I've never, um, even seen Benjamin. I just know he exists because Tom sent me a birth announcement."

"Three years living here and you've never gone back once..." he muttered, repeating her words. "Any particular reason why?"

"I have my own life up here, and they have their own down there," she offered, knowing her explanation was weak. He didn't push her any further, though she could tell he thought she was taking advantage of what she had. But he only had a small portion of the story, only a fraction of the picture, so he could hardly begin to understand why she had severed herself completely from Virginia and her family.

"Are you done with your interrogation yet?" she prompted, reaching hesitantly to touch his hand with her outstretched fingers. He held still, allowing her to trace his skin lightly.

"Hardly," he mumbled, seeming to enjoy her gentle touch. "But I think we can put it on hold for a minute..." He positioned his body closer to Emma's, reaching out to gently touch her hair. She closed her eyes, feeling the warm sun spill across her face as he gently ran his fingers through her ginger locks.

She willed herself to relax as his fingers grazed her neck, fingering the length of her scar once again, frowning slightly as his fingers rested on the damaged skin for a moment longer.

His hand had now strayed to her bare shoulder, tracing the milky white texture. "You have beautiful, skin, Em," he noticed, his fingers dancing softly against her arm.

She smiled, never before having her pale complexion called anything but pasty. "Thank you," she muttered, a blush creeping to her cheeks as she glanced at him through her lashes. "Can you—" she cut herself off, turning his eyes to the small expanse of shimmering water ahead of her. She rubbed her fingers together gingerly as she waited for her flushed face to cool in the gentle breeze.

"What is it, Em?" he muttered, bringing his hand gently to her chin. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

She took in a halting breath, finding Will's eyes as she let the words spill from her lips in an airy breath. "Can you kiss me, Will?"

He looked pleasantly shocked as he ran his hand down the length of her cheek, cupping her face lightly as he brought his lips lightly to hers. She held perfectly still, allowing Will to lead her, scared of how her body would react if she allowed herself to reciprocate. She craved his touch, loved the way his lips felt against her own as though they had been made to for the sole reason of kissing her. She knew as soon as she lost herself in his fervent touch, her body would retreat to an instinctive protective mode, causing her to panic though there was nothing for her to fear.

He brought his hand behind her neck, tangling his fingers through her hair. Emma fought to keep a grip on her body, a tie to her emotions, her rational mind battling against her unreasonable instincts.

He released her gently before she had a chance to pull away. "Just wanted to make sure you're doing okay," he explained, his voice soft as he caught his breath.

She smiled at him appreciatively as she pulled her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry that I'm, you know, so hesitant..."

"Don't be, Em," Will scolded her. "I want you to feel comfortable, and I never, never want you to feel threatened. I know this is hard for you, beginning to explore a part of a relationship you never have before, and I want you to know I'm going to take the baby steps right along with you."

Her face felt hot as she was reminded of the lie she had fed him. "I appreciate that, Will," she mumbled, feeling slightly sick and frustrated as she fought to keep herself protected at the cost of deceiving Will. "Why don't we eat soon?" she suggested, plastering a smile on her face as Will remained oblivious to her inner turmoil.

Will smiled, his cheery voice pushing through the tension. "That sounds like a perfect idea."

XXXX

"Mhmm, Em," Will murmured into her neck, his lips leaving a burning trail against her skin.

She allowed her fingers to lace through his hair, rubbing the soft texture between her fingers. They were on Will's couch, watching a movie that was all but forgotten. After leaving the lake, Will had brought Emma back to his apartment. A glass of wine at dinner had loosened Emma considerably.

He pulled away, leaving Emma gasping for breath. "Are you doing okay, Em?"

She nodded. "Don't stop. Not yet," she practically begged him, reaching for his face. He brought his lips back down to hers, hovering over her as she fell back against the pillows of the couch. Her muddled thoughts were impossible to sort through. She only knew one thing: She wanted him. She wanted him so, so much.

She pressed his lips more desperately against his, causing him to moan in pleasure. She felt a thrill of pride surge through her, realizing that she was successfully pleasing Will. Her fears were slowly beginning to melt away, leaving her feeling new and worthy. Her body trembled with the rush of emotions that coursed through her, pushing through the guilt she had been carrying for so long, almost laughing as she allowed her regret to melt away.

She pushed her body closer to his, wrapping her legs around his torso.

"God, Em," Will groaned, running his hand down the length of her side. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Don't talk," she complained, unsure when her unabashed courage would betray her.

He chuckled. "Was this all it took? Giving you a little alcohol? I should've tried this ages ago," he joked, hungrily biting down at her lower lip.

His hand strayed to her stomach, slipping beneath the material of her shirt. His fingers grazed the bare skin, running along the waist band of her pants.

Her breath caught in her throat as she fought to regain her composure. Her mind flashed, a vision of red, as Will's skin burned against hers. She felt the tears brim in the corner of her eyes, unable to bite back the sob that suddenly tore through her, everything suddenly crumpling before her.

Will pulled away at once, his brow furrowing in worry. "Damn it, sorry, Em," he tried to soothe her, reaching gently to rest his hand against her trembling shoulder.

"No, my fault," she choked, feeling angry with herself. She pulled her knees to her chest, refusing to look at Will.

"No, Em, no," Will pleaded with her, brushing her hair away from her shoulder to reveal her tear stained face. "I took advantage of the fact that you were so eager tonight. I promised myself that I was going to watch out for you, that I was going to respect your need to take things slowly. Emma, it's okay that you freaked out. We're slowly learning your limits, and we're going to work through them together. I'm okay with the fact that it is going to take us a long, long time before we even get close to intimacy. Em, I want to be that guy who won't abandon you when things get tough. And someday, I hope that I can be the first man you let in."

Emma cried harder as he finished, hating herself more than she could ever recall. She rose from the couch, feeling sick as she fumbled for the sliding glass door that led out to the balcony.

"Em." Will followed her, reaching for her hand as she leaned against the railing. "I'm sorry."

She wasn't exactly what he was apologizing for. He had nothing to be sorry for. He was perfect, much too good to her, and she knew at once she hardly deserved him. She gulped in the sweet night air, trying to settle her thoughts.

"What's wrong, Em?" Will murmured, stepping closer to her. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" His words were soothing, unsuspecting as he continued to rub her hand reassuringly.

She couldn't answer. Couldn't look at him as her body began to tremble uncontrollably, shivering despite the heat of the summer night. She pulled away from his grasp, burying her face in her arms as she supported her body against the railing.

"Emma." She bit her lip as another sob rose in her throat. "Emma, I'm so, so sorry."

She lifted her head, daring to glance at Will's face, contorted in pain as he struggled to comfort her. She couldn't keep hiding, couldn't keep protecting herself with a lie.

"Will," she whispered, her voice sounding detached as she uttered his name. "I lied to you, Will."

A look of confusion swept over his face. He reached for her in the darkness, but she shied away.

"I lied to you when I told you I was virgin."

* * *

_A/N: I swear, I rewrote this chapter about ten times, and I'm still unsure about how it turned out. Thanks so much for all your support guys. Your reviews are so encouraging!_

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: Honest Reviewer, lodvg, IHEARTWEMMA, and D. _


	8. Chapter VIII

_Chapter VIII_

"_I'm sure this is what I want, Daddy." Her accent sounded stronger than usual as she strained to say the words without crying. _

_Her father stood in the doorway of her small bedroom, watching as Emma filled the open carpet bag with nearly every item she owned. _

"_You don't have to do this, Maybird," he used the familiar nickname for his daughter born in May. "You know you're always welcome to continue staying here with us," Robert Pillsbury told her. His pepper gray hair was sprinkled with flecks of red that matched his daughter's vibrant ginger locks. _

"_I know that, Daddy," she told him, zippering her bag securely shut. "But I want to do this."_

_She tried her best to make her voice sound confident, but the wavering in her words betrayed her fear. _

_Emma thrived on safety and comfort. She found it difficult to handle even the small things in life. She had always been concerned with organization and order, even as a small child. But after the 'dairy farm incident,' as it had been dubbed, Emma's need for control skyrocketed. In a world where many things quickly spiraled out of Emma's control, her need for complete dominance in respect to her own life was usually hard to come by. Keeping the control she craved meant sacrificing. She missed out on many opportunities and interactions with the people around her. She had few friends, and Emma even had a hard time bonding with those who were caring enough to see past her mysophobia._

_When she graduated high school, the fear of her unknown future nearly suppressed her. She could not hide, especially when muted dreams of success and confidence floated in the back of her mind. She struggled, trying to keep a grip on her much needed control while not letting her condition rule her life. She found her solution, and though it was limiting, it was a safe way for herself to face the world. _

_Emma attended college close enough to home that she could continue to live there. Living off campus cut her off from her peers even more so than in high school, but Emma was hardly concerned with that. She was proud enough of herself for merely choosing to go to college; acting like a normal student could fall into place in some intangible future. _

_She attended school in hope of someday becoming a psychologist. She would have a tidy little office where she would spend her day, sorting through other people's messes as she avoided dealing with her own. _

_That was three years ago. The idea of uprooting herself and beginning her own life was too daunting for Emma to consider. She continued to live at home, working as a secretary for a law firm about half an hour away. She didn't mind, not really. She had her own desk area which she kept prim and organized, and her interaction with the clients was mainly done behind the safe barrier of the telephone. _

_And besides, she couldn't hate her job at the firm because it was where she had met Alex. Alex was the son of the firm's namesake, Alexander Michael Clayford II of Clayford and Associates. Following in his father's footsteps, Alexander Michael Clayford III had joined his father in the family profession. Though three years older than Emma, he had taken quite an interest in the quiet, well-dressed secretary his father had hired. _

_After many bright morning greetings and chats past closing time, Alex had finally asked Emma out. She was startled; boys had only shown minor interest in her in high school and college, and as embarrassed as she was admit it, Emma had never dated before. She agreed to Alex's offer, her thoughts flashing to her brother who was only two years older than she was, engaged to his college girlfriend, Gwen. Emma knew she couldn't keep hiding, watching as life passed her by while she waiting safely on the sidelines. She was more scared to end up alone than she would've admitted, and Alex with his cropped blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a smile to die for didn't seem like such a bad choice. _

_Alex was a typical southern gentleman. Born and raised wealthy, he was quick to impress Emma. He took her to elegant restaurants and bought her pretty little baubles, despite Emma's protests that she hardly needed jewelry so fine. He could often come off as cocky and arrogant, especially around those he felt comfortable with, but Emma was quick to see that Alex was actually quite shy. It wasn't a wonder that he had gone for a soft spoken girl like herself. _

_She knew that was a reason he had picked her amongst all the leggy blondes and gorgeous brunettes. They overshadowed Alex's lack of confidence, while Emma's quiet nature allowed him to have the dominance he craved. It wasn't so unlike Emma's need for control, she soon began to realize, and she hardly minded. Never being in a relationship before, she was hesitant about every aspect of it, and she was glad she had Alex to show her the ropes and make the decisions, as long as he continued to show respect for her cautiousness when it came to their physical relationship. _

_They had been dating for a year now. Emma was adjusting fairly well to the new lifestyle, though she knew Alex grew impatient with her aversion to physical contact. She sometimes found herself wondering why Alex continued to put up with her; he had allowed his frustration to show numerous times—something she could hardly blame him for. _

_But Alex was a good man. Beneath his frustration, she knew he truly wanted to make things work. He was more patient than she could've hoped for, and with hardly any complaints, he complied to Emma's need to take things at an unbearably slow pace. _

_And as a first year anniversary present, Alex had asked Emma to move in with him. He had just rented a new apartment. It was sizable; two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large kitchen and living room. She could hardly say no, and though she knew he would most likely be understanding if she declined, she could imagine a frustrated response all too well. And after a year of dating, if she weren't ready to take things a step further, where exactly was she expecting this relationship to go? _

_She didn't want it to end; she was certain of that. The thought of losing Alex scared her more than it should have. After all, he had been the one to find her, not the other way around. Without Alex, Emma could imagine the years ahead—living eternally in her parents' house, shriveling away behind a crippling mental disorder she refused to fully admit to. In a sense, Alex had saved her. He had introduced her to a new lifestyle that would've been hard for her to find herself. _

_If she were being perfectly honest, she was more so drawn to the idea of Alex rather than to the man himself. He was kind enough, gentle enough, and understanding enough, but were those reasons to stay with him? It made her feel guilty to realize she was using him in a way—settling for him because she couldn't find the courage to break out of her shell and find what she was truly looking for. _

"_Maybird." Her father's voice brought her back to the present—back to her room; it caused a lump to swell in her throat as she realized these would be her last moments here. _

_She didn't look at him. His love for her was too much for her to bear, especially right now. Weren't most fathers supposed to kick their twenty-five-year-old daughters out of the house, not offer them a place to stay?_

"_Emma." This time she jerked her head up. He rarely called by her given name. "You're doing this because it's truly what you want, right? Not because Alex is forcing you to, not because you feel like you have to prove something to yourself?"_

_She swallowed; he knew her too well. "I promise, Daddy, I'm doing this for myself. I love Alex." She pushed her well-rehearsed words from her mouth. She wasn't sure if she loved Alex. She cared for him, and she could not deny her physical attraction to him, but love? Emma could only dream about the true, beautiful love she had only read about in books. _

_Robert Pillsbury didn't answer her. She knew immediately that he saw through her words, but he was not about to start an argument. It was clear that Emma had made her decision; he had done all he could for his daughter, and now it was her turn to make her own choices—and possibly her own mistakes. _

"_I love you, Daddy," she told him, stepping in to give him one of her rare embraces. Emma usually saved her sporadic displays of physical affection for her father. _

_She felt his arms weave gently around her fragile frame. "I love you, too, Maybird. Don't you ever forget that."_

_Her heart pounded in her chest as she tightened her grip around her father's waist. She tried to reassure herself that the sudden qualms stemmed from a desire to remain with her ever-compassionate father, not because of the uncertain road ahead of her. _

"_Now go say goodbye to your Mama," Robert Pillsbury said gruffly, and Emma could tell he was fighting tears just as she was. "I'll get your bag and put it in your car."_

_She nodded as she pulled away from him. "You go ahead, Daddy. I need a minute."_

_He slung her bag over his shoulder, leaving Emma to stare at the emptiness of the room she had lived in for the past twenty-five years. _

_Her father's words hung in her mind. He loved her enough to let her go, to let her make her own decisions. And he was right to do so. Emma greatly needed to grow and mature away from the comfort and safety of her home, but was moving in with Alex the right answer?_

XXXX

"_What do you think, Emma?" Alex eagerly asked, throwing her bag onto the nearby sofa as the pair entered the apartment. _

_Emma had only seen the apartment when it had been empty, so she was shocked to see the difference in its now furnished state. _

"_It's lovely, Alex," she dutifully told him, though her words could not be more sincere. Alex had taken care of all the furniture—not that Emma would've had much to offer. Without ever having a true place of her own, she owned virtually no furnishings. _

_The rooms were tidy and nicely put together, and with everything already feeling so fresh, Emma knew that it would be easy for her to keep well on top of the cleaning. _

"_Would you like to see our room now?" he asked, leading her down the hall to the master bedroom. _

"_O-our r-room?" Emma stuttered, the panic rising in her chest as she peaked into the large room, unable to appreciate the beauty of the mahogany furniture and cherry colored décor as her heart raced. "I thought you specifically chose an apartment with two bedrooms so we could, you know, have our own space..." she trailed off nervously, her eyes darting from the hefty king-sized bed to Alex's face. _

_He sighed heavily, his eyes filled with the ever familiar frustration. "Oh, that again," he mumbled obviously referring to the panicked list of requirements she had rattled off upon agreeing to move in with him. "I thought because we were finally taking this step to move into together, we could, you know, start moving things along a bit..." Emma blushed deeply at the mere mention of intimacy. Alex had been slowly pushing her to take things to the next level for a while now, but Emma would always end his advances in a state of panic. _

_She didn't answer for a moment, feeling torn and miserable as she strove to please Alex as well as herself. _

"_Just think about it," he muttered, turning to plant an impulsive kiss on her unsuspecting lips. _

_Her breath hitched at his lips bore down on her. She didn't mind it when Alex kissed her, but she hated it when he decided to surprise her._

_She relaxed slightly, allowing Alex's lips to work against hers. Beneath his minty breath, she could taste the faint flavor of brandy. She knew well that Alex drank, though he never seemed to partake in this habit around her. _

"_So what do you say?" Alex asked her, pulling away so he could catch her gaze. "Will you be sleeping with me in here tonight?"_

_Her heart rate, already accelerated from the kiss, only fluttered more wildly at his suggestion. She knew well that her pounding heart beat had hardly anything to do with longing. She was much too frightened at even the idea of intimacy to allow her mind to wander to the pleasure it might hold. It was messy and impulsive, and Emma had trouble coming to terms with the loss of control she would experience during the act. _

"_Soon," she promised weakly, "but not tonight. I think we both need a little more time to get, um, adjusted before we make a hasty decision like this..."_

_Alex sighed again, and she could tell he had a mouthful for her, but he tactfully dropped the subject. "Come on. Let me show you your room. I anticipated that you might end up reacting like this, so I had it decorated with you in mind."_

_She followed him to the room just down the hall, next to a small bathroom. "Periwinkle," he told her, pushing open the door as she entered the space, an overwhelming amount of blue surrounding her. "I know that's one of your favorites."_

_She could not stop the grin that wove across her face. "Thank you, Alex," she told him, her voice genuine. _

_For the first time that day, she felt a surge of hope course through her._

XXXX

"_So I heard you moved in with Alex..." her brother trailed off suggestively. She could imagine his eyebrows raising through the other end of the phone._

"_Yes," she muttered, her cheeks coloring, and she was glad that Tom couldn't see her. "Did Daddy tell you?"_

"_Yes and no," he told her, further explaining. "Gwen and I took Liv over to visit—and we were both shocked to find you not there. I don't think there's ever been a time you _haven't _been there," Tom joked. "Dad explained your new living arrangements. Why didn't you tell me, Em?" He sounded slightly hurt, and Emma couldn't tell if he were faking it or not. _

"_I didn't think it was a big deal," she mumbled. She never had been one to draw attention to herself. "And I wanted to, you know, make sure things were permanent before anything became to official..."_

"_So it is feeling pretty permanent?" Tom asked. _

"_It's only been three days," she explained, twisting a stand of hair around her finger as she spoke. "But it feels longer...yes, I guess things are seeming pretty permanent at this point."_

"_Are you handling everything okay?" Tom asked, sincerely concerned about his baby sister. Tom usually kept a pretty lighthearted, humorous tone with Emma when he spoke to her. Delving into the more messy side of their relationship only brought back painful memories. _

"_Surprisingly, yes," she told him, pleased that her words weren't a lie. "It's very clean here, which helps, and of course it's nice to have Alex by my side."_

"_I'm proud of you, Emma," Tom told her, and she could practically here him smiling through the phone. _

_She blushed again. _

"_So Dad gave me your new address—you do realize you're now twenty minutes closer to me and Gwen?" _

"_Yes," she said the word hesitantly, not sure what Tom was getting at. _

"_Which means Gwen and I plan to fully utilize your close proximity so you can babysit Liv," he told her, referring to his six-month-old daughter. _

"_Tom!" she practically shrieked. _

"_Gosh, Em, I was kidding. Well, half kidding. Maybe you could think about it as a _possibility _in the future. But really, since you're so close now, it wouldn't hurt to stop by now and then to visit, would it?"_

"_I'm hardly a fascinating person to spend time with, Tom," she told him, laughing in spite of herself. "But it that's what you want, I suppose I could make it happen. After all, it has been a while since I've seen Olivia..."_

"_That's the spirit, Em," he told her. "And you wouldn't believe how much Liv has grown since you last saw her."_

_Emma thought of her little niece—though the child was adorable, Emma found it hard to form an attachment to a messy infant. But for Tom, she would at least make the effort. It would be nice to see them nevertheless. Tom always made her feel content with his easy going attitude, and his wife, Gwen, was pleasant to talk to. _

_Her thoughts were interrupted as the front door opened, signaling that Alex had arrived home. "I have to go now, Tom, but it was really nice to talk to you. I promise I'll come visit when I can."_

"_I'm holding you to that," he laughed. "It was really nice to talk to you, too."_

_When they finished exchanging farewells, Emma clicked her phone shut, leaving the comfort of her bedroom to greet Alex. _

XXXX

"_I see you cleaned the house today," Alex said, pushing open the door to Emma's bedroom. _

_Her chin jerked up from novel she was reading. It was late—past midnight, and Emma was only still awake because her book was too compelling to stash away until morning. _

_Partaking in his typical Saturday hobby, Alex had gone golfing with usual group, mostly sons of wealthy family friends and acquaintances. Emma had been more than happy to remain home by herself, and as soon as Alex left, she had done a thorough scouring of the entire apartment, feeling pleased with herself as she enjoyed the immaculate apartment that evening. _

_She nodded, suddenly feeling wary. Alex acted oddly toward her anal cleanliness at times. _

"_You remember that I did tell you we could hire a cleaner?" Alex reminded her, sitting down on the edge of her periwinkle comforter. "They usually come weekly, but we could request more often if you'd like. You know you don't have to take care of the house yourself..."_

"_I know," she told him quickly. He had brought up the idea of maid when he found her cleaning the bathroom the night they moved in. Never living with her before, he hadn't witnessed the full-blown extent of her cleaning habits, and she could tell that it was yet another quirk of hers that would cause him frustration. "I don't mind cleaning myself—saves us some money too." He raised his eyebrows here, implying that money was certainly not the issue here. "Alex, I kind of just like doing it myself...is there anything wrong with that?"_

"_No," he sighed, scooting closer to her on the bed. "But I do think you're the only woman I know who actually enjoys housework." He grinned at her, promptly shutting her open novel as he brought his face close to hers. _

_He had drunk more than usual, she quickly noticed. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and his breath smelled strongly of his typical brandy. She willed herself to relax as his mouth bore down on her lips. She kept her arms planted firmly at her side, digging her fingernails into the fragile skin of her palms, trying not to let his kiss frighten her._

_He didn't stop as quickly as he usually did. His lips strayed from her lips to her jawline. He nuzzled her neck, skimming his mouth along the collar of her nightgown, his lips dipping dangerously close to her chest. _

"_Alex," she muttered, the panic trilling in her utterance of the word. She tried to gently push him away, and Alex mistook her touch for eagerness. She gasped when he pulled himself on top of her trembling frame, bringing his lips frantically back to her mouth. _

"_Alex!" she shrieked, louder this time against the softness of his lips. She managed to turn her head, drawing in loud gulps of breath as she tried to calm herself. _

_Alex pulled away, looking confused and frustrated. "You didn't like that?"_

"_No, it's not that," she lied, feeling miserable and hot as she tucked her knees tightly against her chest. "I just wasn't ready, I guess..."_

_Alex sighed, biting back a remark. Instead, he grinned at her, taking her hand gently in his. "We're just going to have to get you ready then, aren't we?" She shuddered delicately. "Practice makes perfect, right?" _

_Her ran his fingers down the length of her face, lifting her chin as he caught her gaze, smiling faintly. A shiver ran down her spine. She knew Alex would get what he wanted. _

_She nodded, only to appease him, but she was more relieved than she'd admit when he stepped out the door, leaving her in the comfort of her solitude. _

XXXX

"_Your mother hates me," Emma sighed, her heels clicking against the pavement as they walked through the cool spring night toward Alex's car. _

"_She doesn't hate you," Alex assured her. They had just departed from dinner with Alex's parents. Luckily, these dinners were few and far between, though Emma found she dreaded each one more and more. Alex's father was nice enough. They saw each other around the office enough to have a comfortable acquaintanceship. But his mother. Just thinking about the woman left Emma feeling queasy. She had the same blue eyes as Alex, though hers seemed cold and scathing, always scanning Emma up and down as though she were a flawed piece of furniture. _

"_She looks at me like I'm filthy," Emma muttered, stepping into the passenger side of the car. _

"_Mother's just," Alex fumbled for the right words, "expecting me to bring home a different type of girl, that's all..." _

"_Is there something wrong with me?" Alex's words were far from comforting. _

"_Of course not," he assured her, rubbing his hand against her thigh as he grasped the steering wheel with the other. Alex's touch, meant to be soothing, only made her twitch. "Mother's just the type of woman who doesn't look beneath the surface. She sees you as an woman from a poor family who works in an inferior position."_

"_I'm sorry," Emma muttered, slowly sliding her thigh away from Alex's touch. She hated feeling like such a disappointment. _

"_Don't be...that's just me rationalizing my mother's behavior. You know I think much more of you. You know I love you," he promised her, his hand finding her leg once again. "Besides, I think she's expecting us to make the announcement soon...seeing as you're the most consistent girlfriend I've had in years."_

"_Announcement?" Emma's mouth felt dry as she said the words. "As in marriage?"_

"_Emma, we have been dating for over a year now. I'd say it's save to say we're headed in that direction. I thought we'd give it a little more time before seriously discussing it, though," he assured her, giving her thigh a final squeeze before placing both hands securely on the wheel. _

_Emma didn't answer him, feeling unsettled as she processed his words. Forever with Alex was a lot to think about, but who else would she find willing to give her the same offer?_

XXXX

_He greeted her with a passionate kiss, his hand reaching to cup her breast through her shirt. Her breath caught, trying to pull away, but he kept her firmly in his grasp. _

_Emma had left the office on time, bidding Alex a quick farewell as he had informed her he would be staying late, and she found herself relishing the brief time she had alone more than she should have. _

_Moving in with Alex was proving to be quite an adjustment. The limited time that they had seen each other while living separately could not have even begun to prepare Emma for the reality of living with a significant other. She wanted time alone, while Alex always wanted her. And his frustration was always clear when she showed her reluctance. _

_But she knew Alex meant well, and it was only fair of him to want her. _

_It would be a lie to say she wanted him in the same way. In the beginning of their relationship, she had not minded his sweet, gentle kisses and his soft touches, but now as he continued to become more urgent and passionate, her body began to react in ways she was not familiar with. Ways she wasn't sure she was comfortable with. _

"_Alex," she muttered, her voice weak as his lips strayed to her neck. "Shouldn't we eat dinner first?" Her eyes darted to the counter top where he had haphazardly tossed the bags of take out Chinese. She hated the over seasoned oriental food, but she was willing to take that over Alex's touch. _

"_Emma, baby, just relax," he told her, bringing his hand down to her thigh, stroking the soft skin beneath her pantyhose. He was becoming increasingly bolder with his touches, and Emma found her protests becoming less and less effective._

_Alex had always been in charge; she had known that, but now she was beginning to see just how much he had held back. _

_She turned her face away, feeling his frustrated breath against her cheek as he loosened his hold. "Emma, what is it? Why don't you let me touch you? Is it only because of the germs, or it is me?"_

"_Of course it's not you," she muttered quickly, feeling sick as she pushed the words from her mouth. "I'm just getting used to all this..."_

"_You know I love you," he told her, bringing his hand gently to her face. "You know I would never hurt you."_

"_I know, Alex. I know that," she muttered, feeling guilty that she had led him to even consider that. She wanted to please him, though she wasn't sure how to do so without compromising everything she was worth. She licked her lips tentatively, her eyes falling on Alex's blue orbs. "I love you, too."_

XXXX

_Emma stood outside her brother's apartment, delaying the moment she'd have to knock for as long as possible. She could not believe he had roped her in to babysitting Olivia. But who was Emma to deny Tom's desperate call, telling her that he and Gwen had a charity ball to attend and Liv's usual babysitter, Cora, had called at the last minute, canceling because of the stomach flu?_

_Alex had groaned; it was one of those rare Saturdays that he had stayed home, and he was looking forward to having some alone time with Emma that evening. She had to admit, spending the evening away from Alex appealed to her more than it should have._

_Emma glanced at the filthy doorbell just outside the door, quickly deciding that knocking would be the best route to go. She rapped her fist gently against door, only waiting a moment before Gwen opened the it. _

_Gwen was always beautiful, with her long blonde hair and curvy figure, but she looked particularly stunning tonight dressed in a gorgeous red floor length gown and her hair pulled back into an intricate bun. _

"_Hello, Gwen," Emma muttered, suddenly feeling small and insignificant next to her lovely sister-in-law. _

"_Hey, Emma," Gwen greeted her enthusiastically. "Come on in."_

_Emma followed her into the apartment. She had only visited once, almost six months ago, right after Olivia had been born. The apartment was clean, but not neat, which was understandable even to Emma. Both Tom and Gwen worked, and with a baby to care for, she knew that it was hard to keep an immaculate house. _

"_Thanks so much for doing this for us, Emma," Gwen thanked her, clasping a delicate gold chain around her own wrist. "I know this whole last minute stuff isn't really your thing, but Tom and I appreciate it so much."_

_"__Anytime," Emma muttered, though she felt otherwise, glancing down the hall as Tom appeared. _

_Her older brother looked dashing in his tux—a sight Emma was not accustomed to seeing on the man who mainly owned t-shirts. He had even taken the time to tame his wavy red hair, and as he bent over to kiss Gwen sweetly on the cheek, Emma couldn't help to think what a handsome couple they made. _

_Their touches seemed so natural, making Emma's stomach drop as she thought about her own relationship with Alex. When would a simple peck on the cheek ever feel normal?_

"_Hey, Em," Tom greeted her, nodding in her direction. He knew Emma's rule. She rarely greeted people with hugs or a handshake, even her family members. "Thanks for doing this."_

_She nodded, feeling a little uneasy when she realized she would be utterly alone with the baby within minutes. "Where is Olivia, anyway?" she spoke her thoughts out loud, her eyes darting around the apartment. _

"_In her room," Tom answered, nodding his head toward the closed door down the hall. "She's been sleeping for about an hour now, so she should be waking up shortly."_

_Tom led her into the kitchen, giving her a rundown of exactly what to expect during the evening. He left her a detailed list of what Olivia could eat, where her diaper changing supplies were—here Emma cringed—what behaviors to expect from his daughter, and which ones were clues that something might be wrong. _

"_We've been trying to get her down to bed anywhere from seven thirty to eight o'clock, but if she's being fussy, you don't have to force it. Especially since she took such a late nap today, she might be a little more alert when bedtime comes around tonight. Sometimes just sitting in front of the TV while feeding her a bottle gets her drowsy enough to put her in bed, so try that if she's not cooperating," Tom explained. _

_Emma nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed. It was only for one evening, she reminded herself. It was almost five o'clock now, and Tom and Gwen planned to be home around eleven. And if she managed to get the baby to sleep around eight like Tom instructed, most of her time here would be spend in comfortable solitude. _

"_Our cell numbers are on the fridge," Gwen told Emma, motioning toward the slip of paper that rested under a picture magnet of baby Olivia. "I think you already have Tom's in your phone if I'm not mistaken, but they're here if you need them for some reason. Don't hesitate to call if you need something—either Tom or I will have our phones on us at all times."_

_Emma nodded, bidding the couple farewell as they disappeared out the door. She sighed, glad that Olivia was still soundly sleeping, giving Emma time to ease herself into the situation. _

_While Olivia slept, Emma took the chance to dig out some cleaning supplies from under the sink. The repetitive act of cleaning left Emma feeling calmer and more confident, even though she only made it ten minutes into her cleaning spree before the baby's cries cut through the silence of the apartment. _

_Emma hurried to the room, cracking open the door hesitantly. The room was painted soft purple, which Emma found refreshing to the typical pink. Inside a white crib, her little niece flailed her arms, begging in her wordless shrieks for someone to hold her._

_Emma sucked in a breath, pushing away her fear and hesitation as she reached for the child. Emma gasped when she saw how big she was. She hadn't seen the Olivia in nearly three months now, and she couldn't believe how much the baby had changed. She was bigger, fuller, and the shock of red curls on her small head had grown considerably. _

"_Don't cry, Olivia," Emma crooned, looking at the poor baby's face as it scrunched up as she wailed. _

_Emma rocked the baby in her arms, trying in vain to mollify her. What had Tom said to do after she woke up? Emma racked her brain, sifting through the instructions Tom had given her. She grimaced when she remembered. _

_Change her diaper. _

_Emma placed the sobbing child back in the crib as she hurried to living room to retrieve her bag, snapping on a pair of plastic gloves before taking on this daunting task. _

_Emma was thankful the diaper was only wet, and as she placed the new diaper securely on the baby, she noticed that Olivia's shrieks had finally faded. Emma smiled as she realized the child was only uncomfortable because of her soiled diaper. She couldn't blame her. _

_Emma took Olivia into the living room, spreading out a blanket on the floor as Tom had instructed her to. Apparently, one of Olivia's favorite activities was rolling around on the floor with a couple of soft toys and books around her she could grab if she pleased. This could keep her entertained for a while as long as Emma kept a close eye on her. _

_When Olivia tired of her rolling game, Emma brought the child into the kitchen for dinner. She rummaged through the cabinet, settling on mashed bananas for Olivia's meal. Emma wrinkled her nose as she opened the jar—they certainly didn't smell appetizing, but Olivia's eager face told Emma otherwise. _

_Feeding a baby was one of the most frustrating tasks Emma had ever taken on. No matter how hard she tried to keep the food in Olivia's mouth, the infant seemed to get it everywhere. She spit it back up through her lips, and before Emma could wipe it away, the child would put her chubby little hands in her mouth, getting the muck everywhere before Emma could even begin cleaning her up. By the time they were finished, Olivia, the highchair, and Emma's hands were covering in a layer of banana slime. _

_Tom had told her that it wasn't necessary for Emma to bathe Olivia before bed tonight, but the banana covered child in from of her told Emma otherwise._

_She carried the messy baby into the bathroom, holding her an arm's length away from her body. She placed Olivia down on the bathroom floor—__grudgingly_, because Emma was certain it was hardly a sanitary place for a baby. But the other option was holding the messy child against her blouse; the answer was clear to Emma. As she filled up the bath and situated the tub attachment that Olivia could lie in during the bath, Emma watched Olivia carefully as she rolled around the bathroom floor, sucking on her sticky hands. 

_Once the warm water filled the tub, Emma undressed the baby, placing ever article of her clothing into the nearby hamper. _

_Bath time was not at easy as Emma anticipated it to be. Olivia loved to kick, and she hardly wanted to lie on her back on the tub attachment as Emma tried to scrub the gooey banana from the baby's skin. __Emma ended up practically soaked by the time she was finished, but Olivia's huge grin left her feeling strangely happy and not the least bit bitter. _

_She wrestled her into a pair of pajamas, and by the time Emma was finished, she was exhausted. _

_But Olivia was not. She continued to bounce and smile in Emma's lap as she tried to read a book to calm the hyper baby. By the time she made it halfway through the book, it was clear to Emma that Olivia wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. _

_She sighed, taking Tom's suggestion of the bottle and the TV. With Olivia sucking contently on her warm bottle and the television droning pleasantly in the background, Emma could see the baby's eyes visibly drooping. She was asleep before she even finished the bottle. Not wanting to wake the delicately sleeping infant, Emma placed the bottle on the coffee table, leaving the baby's warm body tucked snugly against her chest. _

_Emma fell back against the pillows, letting a sigh of relief escape her chest. Within in minutes, she was fast asleep as well. _

XXXX

"_Look, Gwen."_

_Emma heard the front door click, followed by a chuckle as the couple approached her. Emma's eyelids fluttered open, the soft weight of Olivia's body still pressed against her chest. _

"_Sorry," she muttered, sitting up as carefully as she could so she wouldn't wake the baby. _

"_Nothing to be sorry about," Gwen assured her, sitting down next to Emma on the couch. She pulled a pair of painful looking red heels from her swollen feet, looking relieved to be back in the comfort of her home. "She's just getting a little spoiled, that's all. Liv _loves _to sleep while someone's holding her."_

"_I'll take her to her room, Em," Tom offered. _

_Emma looked down at the slumbering infant in her grasp, not minding the messy child as much as she had at the start of the hectic evening. In fact, she felt a slight flutter in her heart as she held the baby against her. _

_She handed the baby to Tom, who lovingly held his daughter in his grasp. "You gave her a bath, didn't you?" Tom chuckled, eyeing Emma. _

_Emma blushed. "Dinner was...a messy affair—which reminds me, I didn't have the chance to clean up her highchair!" Emma panicked slightly, glancing toward the kitchen. _

"_Don't worry about it," Gwen laughed reassuringly. "We'll take care of it. You've been more than helpful this evening."_

_Emma allowed herself to relax, though the thought of the gooey highchair was beginning to bother her. She watched Tom disappear down the hall, cradling the sleeping baby in his arms. _

_She turned toward Gwen. "How was your evening?" Emma asked pleasantly. _

"_It was nice," Gwen answered. "Some of the older couples there were...stiff." She laughed slightly here. "But other than that, it's always nice to go out for a dressy evening and have a nice dinner from time to time."_

_Tom emerged a moment later, holding a wad of cash in his hand. "Here, Em," he offered it to her. "Since we had every intent to pay Cora tonight, I think it's only fair that we offer something to you for filling in."_

"_Oh, no! I can't accept that Tom!" Emma exclaimed, feeling embarrassed as she glanced at the sum of money. "I'm family—and I'm more than happy to watch your daughter for a couple hours at no cost."_

"_Are you sure?" Tom asked, pushing the money toward a final time. Emma nodded vigorously. _

_She headed home after that, finding that she was dying for a shower. She could still faintly smell the mashed banana baby food on her skin, and the exerting evening left her feeling frazzled and spent. She wasn't sure if she could ever handle the task of motherhood._

_She was surprised to see Alex waiting up for her, seeing as it was nearly midnight by the time she slipped in the door. It was obvious how he had spent his evening. The television blared on the HBO channel, and in his hand, he held a nearly empty brandy glass. Emma did not wish to think how many times the glass had been filled, and judging by his blood red eyes, it had been one too many. _

"_Hey, babe," he slurred; Emma had never seem him so inebriated. He usually held himself together, but right now, he looked like the classic drunk. _

_Emma stiffened slightly, his red eyes sending a spasm of terror through her. He stood, leaving his glass on the table as he approached her. _

"_I've been waiting up all night for you," he told her, grinning wildly. He crushed his lips against hers, the alcohol in his breath tasting foul. His hand strayed to her thigh, shoving her khaki skirt up her leg. _

_She froze, panic overcoming her as he touched her more roughly than he ever had before. "Alex!"_

"_Babe, please, calm down," Alex soothed her, pressing her up against the living room wall. His fingers danced dangerously close to her underwear line, causing tears to spring to her eyes. "I love you. You know that right?"_

_She nodded through her tears, gasping as his fingers easily tore through her pantyhose. _

"_Then let me show you. Let me show you how much I love you," he purred into her neck, slipping his fingers between her legs. _

_She whimpered, unable to find her voice, unsure if her words would even aid her now as he led her into the master bedroom. _

XXXX

_She awoke the next morning on top of the red comforter, Alex's naked body passed out beside her. Her own clothes had been left in a haphazard heap on the floor beside the bed. Her entire body ached, and she could not ignore the tender soreness between her thighs. _

_She whimpered, feeling small and alone. _

_He hadn't stopped, not even when she had screamed and screamed. Emma had felt more like a helpless rag doll than an equal partner. _

_The whole time, he promised in slurred words it was because he loved her. He loved her, and this was how couples showed they loved each other. _

_Emma knew that. Emma knew that intimacy was a normal part of a romantic relationship. And considering how long Emma and Alex had been together and their current living arrangements, it only seemed normal that this should come naturally. _

_Except it didn't come naturally. At least not for Emma. She knew for a fact that physical contact and intimacy were supposed to be pleasurable within a relationship, but all she could think about from the night before was the unbearable pain and panic that rushed through her. There had been nothing at all enjoyable about the experience. _

_Did that mean there was something wrong with her? She had always known she was more hesitant than most people, regarding many situations in life, but did that mean she would never be able to enjoy this pleasurable act? She felt sick, thinking about her suppressing mental state and even sicker as she thought of sex with Alex. _

_She shuddered, slipping quietly from the bed as she crept to the bathroom to shower._

XXXX

_She slept in the periwinkle room again that night, pulling the covers tightly to her neck as she softly cried herself to sleep. _

_Alex tactfully let her be, and though they hadn't talked about what had occurred in his drunken state, she knew he felt badly. _

_After over week of hardly any confrontation, Alex quietly knocked on her door. She peaked out from under the covers, beckoning him to come in. _

_She didn't hate him. She knew that much as he sat gently on the bed beside her. But she felt uneasy in his presence, the branding memories from that dreadful night only making her feel more anxious. _

"_Baby," he whispered softly, reaching out to touch her hair. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You know that. I love you."_

_The tension gripping her body lessened. _

"_I love you," he repeated the words. "And I'm sorry that I let the alcohol rule me the other night—I treated you too roughly. That's not what love is...and I want to show what it can be—how beautiful it can be between us."_

_He skimmed his hand across the delicate skin of her thigh, reaching beneath the hem of her nightgown. _

"_N-now?" she stuttered, automatically squeezing her thighs together._

"_Only if you want to...Emma, I want to heal you. I want to love you," he whispered desperately, bending over to brush his lips against hers. _

_Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to find a yearning for him, but she was overcome by fear. She willed herself to push through the fear—to give Alex, to give love a second chance. _

_She let him in. _

XXXX

_It wasn't healing, but it wasn't quite as painful as the first time. He was gentler as he entered her, and he was softer with his kisses. _

_And when she sobbed that she had had enough, he let her be, crawling beneath the blue comforter beside her. _

_When he had slipped into a deep slumber, Emma left silently from the bed, hurrying to the shower. She turned the dial as hot as it went, washing the sweat from her trembling body. Even when the hot water ran low and she had used half a container of body wash, she still felt dirty. _

_She stifled a sob, feeling hideous and broken, hating herself because she couldn't be like a normal woman. She hated what she had allowed herself to become. _

_Unable to face Alex, she slipped into his room, letting the towel drop from her naked body. She caught her reflection in the mirror across the room, looking tiny and vulnerable as she wrapped her arms around her nakedness. She quietly opened one the mahogany drawers, pulling out one of Alex's t-shirts. She could smell the faint scent of brandy clinging to the fabric as she pulled the garment over her head. The massive bed looked less than comforting, but the thought of rejoining Alex in the periwinkle room left Emma feeling even more disgusting. She pulled back the red comforter, sliding beneath the weight of it._

XXXX

_He found her in the morning, sleeping delicately across the pillows. _

"_Was it that terrible?" _

_It hurt to hear the words. Hurt to hear she had failed. _

_She couldn't answer. Couldn't look Alex in the eye. _

"_What am I doing wrong?" he muttered, the guilt eating away at her core. _

_It wasn't his fault. _

_It was hers. _

XXXX

_They fell into a pattern. The red room soon became Emma's as well, and Alex could have her whenever he wanted. _

_Frustrated, he had begged her to continue to try, for him, because he loved her. He loved her so much, he promised, and if she loved him back, she needed to show him._

_It didn't take him long to get past the fact that Emma could not enjoy intimacy the way he did. He become rougher, less aware of her as he used her only to fulfill his own desires. It never got better; each time, she'd silently beg for it to be over, waiting for Alex to take his fill. She could not make herself resist, and on the rare occasions that she did struggle, he only used his own strength against her. _

_It wasn't what Emma considered rape, but it certainly wasn't consensual sex either, and though she had little experience, Emma knew that there was something terribly wrong with their relationship. But the haze of guilt clouded her senses, preventing her from doing anything about her debilitating lifestyle. _

_Each time left her feeling dirtier than the last, and he'd find her sobbing in the shower more often than not. She refused to leave the house except to go to work, and her obvious deteriorating state only made Alex grow more frustrated. _

_She couldn't quite recall when he began to hit her. _

_They weren't hard jabs, at first—only used to relate Alex's frustration to Emma. He always had a reason, picking one of Emma's shortcomings and using it against her. He knew the guilt she carried, and he never failed to let her know that everything that went awry was her fault. _

_This was not the Alex she had met. Outside their home, he came close to the charismatic lawyer she had fallen for, but in the safety of their home, he was a monster Emma feared above anything else. _

_A monster Emma had created. She knew that her weaknesses—her fears had pushed Alex to become the man she now knew. She could not give him what he wanted, no matter how hard she tried. She knew well each unwanted touch was her own fault._

_He hated it when she cried, blubbering to herself, falling apart at the seams. The more Emma cried, the harder his blows became. He was careful to only hit her in places that would be easy to conceal—her stomach, her upper arms, and soon the black and blue bruises became like permanent stains against her skin. _

_She was stuck, stuck spiraling out of control. Stuck with a man who all but owned her. _

_And it was all her fault. _

XXXX

_She cleaned. She cleaned now more than ever. She cleaned even when there was nothing left to clean, re-dusting, re-mopping, re-scrubbing until her hands were raw and sore. _

_She cleaned because it was all she had left. _

_In a life that was no longer hers, she fought to keep control of the one thing she could manage. _

_She fought to keep one piece of herself alive. _

XXXX

"_Don't eat that, Liv," Emma sighed, taking the remote control out of the eleven-month-old baby's mouth. _

_She couldn't believe it had been over four months since she had last babysat her niece. The red haired child was beginning to look more a toddler than the infant she remembered. She now made loud noises and nonsense sounds to attempt to communicate, and she was able to pull herself up and stand with the support of the couch or the coffee table. _

_Olivia shrieked as Emma took the remote from her chubby little hands, placing it on top of the television, out of reach of the child. Olivia's frustration was short lived as she noticed the embellished rose on Emma's cardigan. She crawled over to her aunt, pulling herself into Emma's lap and grabbing onto the rose with sudden force. She tugged at the flower, causing Emma's cardigan to slip from her shoulder. _

_Emma instinctively gasped, ripping the cardigan from Olivia's hand as she quickly covered her shoulder. _

_Her ugly, bruised shoulder. _

_But as she looked at the baby, she realized she had nothing to hide from the unsuspecting infant. Gently, she let the cardigan drop from her shoulder, revealing a pattern of purple marks dancing across her delicate skin. _

_Olivia was suddenly fascinated by the color on Emma's porcelain skin. She reached out, almost understandingly, as she gently grazed her tiny fingers across the marks. _

"_He does it to me," Emma whispered, the infant sitting motionless in her lap, staring with her big brown eyes into Emma's. "He hits me when I make him upset." She realized how horrible the words sounded—how horrible her situation had become. But she was in so deep she could hardly think about how to begin to dig herself out. _

_A single tear slid down Emma's cheek. Olivia looked at her quizzically for a moment before snuggling her tiny body tightly against Emma's. Emma's heart broke, wrapping her aching arms around the little girl in her lap. _

_For a moment, everything else melted away. _

XXXX

"_Did she behave herself?" Gwen asked as the couple entered the apartment. They had gone out to see an afternoon movie and had arrived back home after a couple of hours. _

"_She was perfect," Emma told the pair. She and Olivia were sitting on the couch, Emma reading one book to the child while Olivia held another in her hands, sucking on the corner of the binding. _

"_That's great," Gwen smiled, approaching the couch. Olivia's eyes lit up at the sight of her mother, and she quickly squirmed in Emma's grasp. Gwen laughed, taking the baby from Emma's lap. "It's just about nap time for you, isn't it Miss Liv?" She took the baby down the hall to her room, disappearing around the corner. _

"_You okay, Em?" Tom asked her, taking Gwen's spot on the couch. _

"_Of course," she answered automatically, her gaze darting to her shoulder to make sure her sweater was still in place. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"_

_Tom shrugged. "You just look tired, I guess." He paused for a moment, glancing at his sister. "Alex is treating you good, right?"_

_Panic surged through Emma, but she quickly composed herself. "Of course. I love Alex."_

_Tom didn't seem thoroughly convinced, but he let it drop. "So you two thinking about tying the knot anytime soon?"_

"_Oh, no, no, no," Emma answered too quickly. "Not that we won't...in the future, I mean." The thought made Emma feel sick. Alex hadn't brought up the topic of marriage again since their brief conversation months before._

_Tom nodded, and she saw in his eyes that he was begging to interrogate her. He knew her too well, and she needed to leave before she revealed anything she regretted. _

"_I need to go now, Tom," she told him, rising from the couch. "It was nice seeing you."_

"_You too, Em," Tom told her sadly. "Hey," he added quickly, causing her to turn sharply on her heel. "Aren't you a little hot in that sweater? It is July after all."_

_Her heart pounded as her hand rested on the door knob. She really needed to get out. "I'm comfortable," she assured him, though her bruises seemed to burn beneath the flimsy material of her cardigan. _

_He gulped, looking at Emma with a pained expression in his eyes. She turned the knob, leaving before he could utter another word. _

_Once out in the suppressing heat of the parking lot, Emma slowed her gait. Though she was in a rush to get away from the inquisitive eyes of her brother, the longer she could delay returning to her living hell, the better. _

_She slipped into her car, cranking up the air conditioner as high as it went. _

_Alone in her fear, Emma cried. _

XXXX

They had moved from the balcony to the comfort of the couch at some point, though Emma had hardly noticed as the words she had never dared to speak to anyone before spilled from her lips.

The silence grew heavy, hanging between them like a thick veil. Emma could hardly make herself glance at Will. The expression he wore matched the pain that tore through her.

"Oh, Em," he finally whispered, reaching out hesitantly to cup her cheek gently in his hand. "I'm so, so sorry."

The words were inadequate, but she appreciated them nevertheless.

Her vision became blurred as she looked at him, placing her hand on top of his, the feel of his skin beneath hers giving her the courage to keep her words steady. "Will," she whispered softly. He reached to wipe her tears away.

"Will, there's more."

* * *

_A/N: __I tried my hand at withholding this chapter to add to the suspense, but you guys are very lucky that I was just as impatient to post this chapter as you were to read it. Probably even more impatient. I have a horrible problem where I write my stories out of order, so can you guess which chapter I've had written for ages now? It's been killing me, having this written for so long without being able to post it for you guys. _

_But seriously, I don't want to say much this chapter. _

_Thanks for the overwhelming feedback, especially for this last chapter. You guys are awesome. _

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: Hae11395737, sarah, Honest Reviewer, Karen, lodvg, Alyssa (and Angry Alyssa :P), SimplyMe, and Anne_


	9. Chapter IX

_Chapter IX_

"_But you haven't been home in ages, Emma," her mother sighed through the phone. "Your father and I are both proud that you're handling this so well, but we miss you. Why don't you come over this afternoon? It's Saturday, so I'd say it's a safe guess that Alex is out golfing?"_

"_Mama," Emma sighed, her fingers touching her sallow face. In the past few months, she had lost a considerable amount of weight. Her face was sunken, her cheeks hallow and gaunt. Dark circles hung under her eyes, still visible even through the coats of makeup she wore when going out, and she could count every rib poking through her bruised chest. She knew her mother would immediately question her obvious deteriorating physical condition; she had already come too close with Tom last month. "Yes, Mama, Alex is out golfing today, so wouldn't you rather wait until, you know, he can come visit with me?"_

"_Yes, yes, of course I would like to have Alex over as well—for dating him for over a year now, you two are quite evasive when it comes to visiting the family," he mother scolded disapprovingly. "You can always come with Alex later, but why can't you come today as well? I wouldn't mind just seeing my baby girl."_

_Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. "Mama, I can't. Not today." _Not ever. _"I'm, um, not feeling so great. I think I might have a stomach bug or something."_

_Her words were not a lie. She'd been feeling nauseous on and off for over a week now._

"_Emma," her mother sighed, giving up. "Just know that I love you. And your father loves you, too."_

"_I love both of you—so much." Emma prayed the conversation would end before she lost it. She gripped the phone, trying not to let her mother's voice cut her so deeply. Her mother's soft voice only reminded her how much she wanted to go home. _

_But then there was Alex, and though she had never brought up the subject of leaving, she could only imagine what he would do to her if she tried. Besides, who would've taken her now? Broken and used, hideous on both the interior and exterior. Alex and his empty promises were all she had left. _

_Her mother babbled for a moment longer, and Emma was relieved when she finally hung up. She padded softly down the hallway, her head pounding as a wave of nausea swept through her. She stepped into the periwinkle room, feeling calmer in the serene surroundings. Emma crawled carefully onto the comforter, pulling the blue afghan from the bottom of the bed and draping it over her aching body. She shivered, despite the warm summer day, letting her eyelids flutter closed as exhaustion claimed her._

XXXX

_Emma rummaged through the linen closet, haphazardly throwing towels and sheets into the hall without a thought. She knew it was in there. She had remembered burying it beneath the sheets only three months before. _

_She panicked, wondering if Alex had somehow found it. The linen closet had seemed like a more than practical place to hide it; Alex hardly utilized it. Emma was always the one to change the sheets and the towels. _

_Fear coursed through her as it still remained missing, vivid images of Alex's angry face pulsing through her mind. _

_It hit her then that Alex couldn't have found it, or else she would've clearly reaped the consequences. A wave of relief washed over her, only to be suppressed when she realized she still couldn't find it. As she began to replace the towels and sheets, not bothering to fold them as she shoved them back on the shelves, her mind raced as she tried to think where else it could be. As she tucked the last sheet away, a small item fell from between the folds, landing on her foot._

_She picked up the box from the floor, stepping nervously into the bathroom. _

XXXX

_She looked at the stick in her hand, shaking as she tried to formulate a coherent thought. Before she could even begin to properly panic, her stomach lurched. She barely made it to the toilet as the contents of her stomach poured from her mouth, heaving until there was nothing. _

_The vomit tasted vile in her mouth as she collapsed again the bathroom floor, trembling like a fragile leaf. She closed her eyes, leaning her sweaty head against the closed door. The two red lines blared in her mind, making her feel sick all over again. _

_She had known this day would come. She had known for a while now. That was why she had bought the damn test three months before. A necessary precaution._

_She wasn't sure how often Alex used protection. Her body hardly registered anything but terror each time he had sex with her. And Emma was not on birth control. She had never been to a gynecologist, unable to come to terms with an unfamiliar person touching her body. And after Alex began to violate her, the idea only terrified her more, certain that they would somehow discover her abuse if she went in for an examination. _

_But those fears seemed trivial in comparison to the magnitude of the situation she was facing now. This couldn't be happening. Not now. She clung to the hope that the reading had somehow been inaccurate. She had heard many times that early tests could be wrong. _

_But how early was it? Emma's periods were already irregular, and she hardly kept track of the times Alex had sex with her. It was nearly impossible for her to count backwards, estimating an unknown date of conception. The only symptom that prompted her to unearth the test had been her constant nausea in the past week. How early on did morning sickness begin? She had no idea. The whole concept was foreign to her, sending a wave a panic through her as she realized how completely unprepared she was._

_But she was getting ahead of herself. Her hand reached for her belly, still as flat as ever. The only proof she had that there was now a small, alien life inside of her was the cheap pregnancy test she held in her hand. _

_She was going to need to buy another._

XXXX

_She dressed in an uncharacteristic pair of jeans and a t-shirt, brushing her teeth to rid her mouth from the foul taste of vomit before leaving the house. _

_She had taken a sick day, and Alex hardly questioned her decision, much to her surprise. She had been convinced that he would immediately sense her dishonesty, as if her panic were somehow radiating off her. _

_But as she took in her sallow face in the mirror, she knew at once why Alex had been so agreeable. Even to her own eyes, accustomed to seeing her tired face each morning, she looked terrible. Her face was more sunken than usual, her pasty skin ghostly white. She rubbed a fair amount of liquid concealer onto her face, though the purple bags beneath her eyes were impossible to cover. The heavy coat of blush only looked fake, and dark mascara against her lashes hardly brightened her eyes. She was a wreck. _

_Even people at work had begun to look at her with an odd sympathy. Elaine, another secretary who hardly spoke to Emma, asked if she had been getting enough sleep. Alex's father took the safe route of avoiding any confrontation, shooting her an occasional worried expression, but leaving the topic be, and Emma was oddly glad he didn't question her. It hurt her to think about the the agreeable man knowing what went on behind the walls of his son's home. _

_She shoved her limp red hair into a ponytail, feeling completely hideous as she grabbed the house key before leaving through the front door. The nearest convenient store was within walking distance, and Emma found herself taking her time as she breathed in the sweet August air. _

_She felt uneasy as she slipped down the appropriate aisle, quickly grabbing a test—a different brand just to be safe—unable to relinquish her paranoia that people were watching her. _

_But nobody cared. She knew that. The checkout clerk hardly even glanced her way as she paid, her cheeks burning hotly. No one turned in Emma's direction as she left the store. No one stared as she walked down the street to her apartment building._

_But Emma saw them, nameless faces. Men, women, and children who led their own lives. People who had families, people who had jobs and hobbies. People who had fears and uncertainties. People who had their own secrets, their own pain. _

_And somehow, these people whom Emma would never know made her feel a little less alone. _

XXXX

_She felt strangely calm as she held the positive test in her grasp. _

_She had waited through a painstakingly long week to take the test, wishing to obtain the most accurate results. But the test was only concrete proof of what she had already known. The continuing nausea and exhaustion plagued her throughout the week, verifying her condition without a test. _

_She tossed the stick into the wastebasket as she heard the front door slam, quickly covering it with a wad of toilet paper. _

"_Hi, Alex," she told him as she entered the kitchen. He had left briefly to pick up takeout Italian from a local eatery. She had seized her moment of freedom to take the test she had hidden, unable to muster the patience to wait until Saturday. _

_She forced a weak smile as he approached her. _

"_Hope you're in the mood for Italian tonight," he muttered, raking his fingers through her hair as he brought his lips against hers. Her heart pounded heavily against her chest; she could never quite grow accustomed to his rough displays of affection. He paused to take a breath, finishing his thought. "They messed up our order so I took home the wrong one as well as the corrected one."_

_His stomach grumbled loudly, and Emma counted his hunger as a blessing as Alex pulled away from her, grabbing two plates as he hastily set the table for two. _

_Emma picked absentmindedly at the salad as Alex devoured the fettuccine pasta and meatballs himself. Dinner ended all too soon, and without dishes to do because of the disposable containers, Emma knew she would be Alex's for the evening all too soon. _

"_Want to watch a movie?" he asked her, though she didn't know why he bothered. They would end up doing what he wanted, regardless. _

_She knew that movie translated to sex on the couch, and though she hardly wanted to be intimate, she knew it would be best not to protest. If she let him have her without a fight, the chances of him hitting her were less likely. Her last set of bruises were almost faded, and beside the obvious reasons she wanted his fists away from her skin, Emma found herself longing to wear her sleeveless summer dresses before chilly autumn arrived much too quickly. _

_She nodded, watching as he placed a DVD into the player. Alex joined her on the couch, wrapping his arms around her as he brought his lips to hers. By the opening credits, his hand was already up her shirt, unhinging her bra as he brushed his hand against the delicate skin of her breast. _

_She involuntarily whimpered, silently begging for it all to be over. Each touch left her shaking, only causing her to further dread the rest. She closed her eyes, biting her tongue as she silently bore her fear and pain, letting Alex consume her. _

XXXX

_Alex slept soundly beneath the red comforter. Even without his usual intake of alcohol, Alex was a deep sleeper, much to Emma's advantage. _

_She slipped on a nightgown, hating to put the fresh fabric over her sweaty body, but she had more pressing worries on her mind. She forced herself to slide into bed next to Alex, knowing that it would only anger him to find her in the periwinkle room, though she longed to crawl beneath the blue comforter instead of the red. In the heavy silence of the night, the only sound Alex's steady breathing, Emma let herself fully register the fact she had been avoiding. _

_She was pregnant. _

_Inside of her, a foreign little life had begun to develop. It should've scared Emma, but the concept still felt surreal, and Emma was unable to produce the proper emotions. _

_She knew she couldn't tell Alex. _

_Would he make her get rid of it? She hardly knew how Alex would react to the news, though she was positive it would not be pleasant. Their relationship had deteriorated to the point where marriage had become a foreign word, an option that was not even worth considering. To him, Emma had become an item, merely a plaything. She knew Alex hardly wanted a wife, let alone a child. _

_And she could not end it on her own terms. She knew that much. Even the thought of an abortion made her cringe, the idea of the procedure almost too much for her to handle. But a part of her knew it was more than the the thought of a frightening operationthat had her so adamantly against it._

_It was a life growing inside her, and no matter how alien or unwanted, Emma felt an innate need to protect it._

XXXX

_Her face looked fuller, healthier, as she applied her makeup, smiling in spite of herself as she added a finishing touch of pink lipstick. _

_She hadn't felt as sick this week, resulting in a craving for food in general. She had hardly had an appetite in the past few months, but as her body began to change to support her unborn child, she found herself having a healthy appreciation for food again. _

_The little weight she had put on did wonders. She smiled widely as she zippered her yellow sun dress, realizing that it once again hugged her in all the right places instead of hanging off her gaunt body._

_Today was her niece's first birthday._

_Tom had invited her to Olivia's birthday party weeks ago when he had sent the invitations out, but Emma had just recently decided to go, considering her much improved physical condition. _

_She slipped a light weight cardigan over her shoulders, covering the latest damage. Her efforts to hold herself together to avoid another beating had been in vain. She had been more on edge lately, dealing with exhaustion, hunger, and nausea all at the same time, and the extremes her body was experiencing left her an emotional wreck. Alex had been quick to silence her sobs with each blow, but her uncontrollable hormones only had her falling to pieces more often than before. _

_She stepped into the kitchen, leaving Alex a quick note explaining her whereabouts just in case he arrived home early from his golf outing, an unlikely occurrence, though Emma knew it was best to take the necessary precautions. _

_Tom and Gwen had decided to hold the party at the local park to accommodate the various guests they had invited from Olivia's playgroup. Emma walked carefully down the path that led to the large pavilion, trying not to let the crowd overwhelm her. _

"_Tom!" she exclaimed, catching a glimpse of wavy red hair. _

_Her brother turned, a grin spreading across his face as he noticed his sister. "Em! I didn't think you were going to actually come."_

"_I thought I'd surprise you," Emma returned the grin, feeling a surge of happiness as she basked in the glow of her brother's enthusiasm. She hadn't realized how much she missed the world outside the one Alex had her boxed in, and before she even considered her actions, she had her arms wrapped tightly around Tom's neck. _

"_Whoa, Em," Tom chuckled, wrapping his arm's around his little sister after a moment. "You really are full of surprises today."_

_She pulled away shortly, her cheeks flushed slightly from excitement. "So where's the birthday girl?"_

"_Gwen's with her in the pavilion. I think it's just about time for cake," Tom told her, leading her to the throng of gathered couples, wrestling with children who all appeared to be under the age of five. She heard a mixture of laughter and wails as they grew closer, trying to take in the buzzing activity around her. Emma had to give Gwen and Tom props for having the guts to go through with the party. _

_Emma hesitated for moment, a sudden thought dawning on her. "Mama and Daddy aren't here, are they?" She stopped in her tracks, suddenly wary to enter the shelter. She may have looked better than she had a month ago, giving Tom no reason to question her appearance, but her parents would be quick to see that she was not quite herself, and she was suddenly frightened that her careful avoidance of her mother and father would be ended prematurely. _

"_No, Em." Tom turned to her, looking confused at her wary expression. "They're visiting Aunt Judy and Uncle Shane for the last few weeks of August, just like every year. You know that, Em. You usually end up going with them..." He frowned, a look of concern crossing his face. _

"_Of course," she muttered. She was well aware of the date, though she hadn't processed it properly. Her life with Alex had pulled her so far from her old life, detaching her from all the things she used to find familiar. _

"_You okay, Em?" Tom asked, the same worried tone his voice had held last month now present once again. _

"_Tom, honestly, just because the vacation slipped my mind doesn't mean there's something wrong," Emma immediately defended herself, her stomach twisting as she fed her brother the lie. _

"_No need to get feisty, Em," Tom laughed, but his smiled quickly faded as he continued on with his serious tone. "I'm just worried about you. You look a little...off, though you are looking better than you did a month ago."_

"_Tom, it's called stress," she sighed. "Work, being in relationship, taking care of a house. You know how it goes..." She hoped he would drop the topic. _

_Tom let out a heavy breath. "You'd tell if there was something wrong, right, Em?" _

_Why did he have to be so damn perceptive? Emma's stomach knotted, her thoughts suddenly slipping to the tiny fetus growing inside her. If she were going to tell anyone, she knew it would be Tom. The idea of telling him was almost comforting, but she knew she would only be bombarded with an influx questions, most of which she hardly wanted to answer. _

"_Of course I'd tell you, Tom," she said only to appease her brother. "But I promise, there's nothing to tell." She gave him a significant glance. _

"_Okay, Em, I believe you," Tom told her, sighing heavily as he shot her one last worried look. "Though I do notice you're wearing a sweater again..."_

"_Tom! You are completely impossible!" she exasperated, tugging her cardigan tighter against her shoulders, just to make sure it was still in place. _

"_Alright, Em, discussion over. I promise," he told her, glancing toward the party. "Gwen's probably ready to light the candles now, so let's make our way over there."_

_Emma nodded, glad the conversation was over, realizing that this was probably one of the last times she'd be able to risk seeing Tom in a long while._

XXXX

_She had been surprised to wake up Sunday morning to find Alex's side of the bed empty, and even more surprised to find him nowhere in the small abode. _

_She ate breakfast anxiously, a bowl of dry Special K cereal, jumping every time she heard a noise. By midmorning, she all she had managed to do was shower and dress, Alex's sudden absence leaving her on edge. It made her feel vulnerable, not knowing where he was, not knowing why he had left, not knowing when he might burst through the door—with no idea what sort of mood he would even be in._

_By noon, it was clear that Alex was not returning anytime soon, and Emma was certain she'd go crazy if she didn't get out. Hardly considering the consequences, she grabbed her car keys and a purse, leaving before she had time to regret her actions. _

_She found herself at the mall, feeling strangely at ease now that she was away from the apartment. The swirling crowd around her gave her a sense of safety, and as she walked through the shopping complex, she pretended that she was just an ordinary girl, hiding nothing as she lived her life. It was a fantasy she liked to play with herself. She imagined what she looked like to the people surrounding her. Ordinary, nondescript, maybe a little tired and rundown if one looked closely enough. She liked it that they had no idea of the horror her life had become. She liked that on these rare occasions she left the house, she could become like everyone else, a somebody, a nobody. Just Emma. _

_She window shopped for a while, glancing at items she hardly needed, but she succumbed to weakness as soon as she entered J. Crew, rows of skirts and cardigans begging to be purchased. She left the store with a shopping bag swinging pleasantly by her side, excited to have new items to add to her wardrobe. _

_She decided she'd leave the mall, unsure if she'd return home immediately, but as she headed for the exit, a store caught her attention. _

_The Baby Boutique. _

_As she entered the unfamiliar store, she saw it was a little shop dedicated to infant apparel. She felt out of place as she hesitantly walked through the rows of clothing, her heart beginning to pound as she fingered a small pajama set. _

"_Excuse me." Emma turned to see a heavily pregnant woman standing beside her, a pile of blue clothing draped across her arm. The woman smiled pleasantly as Emma scooted over, giving her enough room to pass. _

_Emma looked at her own flat belly and then to the bag of new clothing she had purchased. Clothing that would do her no good in a few months time, she now realized as she glanced at the back at the woman's flowing maternity dress. Her throat tightened, and she took in a deep breath, trying to push away her dizziness. She concentrated on the row of clothing before her, a rack of pink clothing. A tiny floral printed sun dress caught her attention. Olivia would've looked adorable in it, Emma immediately thought. But as Emma gently took the dress from hanger, the image that flashed through her mind was not of her niece. Instead, the little baby was much smaller than her year old niece. Her little face was pink and rosy, her lips puckering slightly in her slumber. Though she hardly had any hair on the crown of her small head, the strawberry blonde color of her locks was obvious. Her little eyes fluttered open; Emma expected to see a flash of blue but was pleasantly surprised as the baby stared up with eyes that matched her own. _

"_Are you finding everything alright, ma'am?" _

_The voice startled her from her day dream as Emma turned to see a middle aged sales clerk grinning widely at her. Emma nodded politely, replacing the dress back on the rack. _

"_How far along are you?" The woman asked her curiously, glancing from Emma's stomach to the sun dress. _

_Emma's face flushed, the question startling her. "Um, well, I'm not really sure," she fumbled for the right words. "I just took a test the other day and haven't had a chance to make a doctor's appointment yet." She let out a sigh of relief as the words flowed from her lips. _

"_Congratulations," the woman told her, finding no fault with Emma's lie. "So I know you're hardly far enough along to know the gender...but do you have any guesses? Most women have that little inkling."_

_Emma knew she meant well, but she was suddenly finding the sales clerk to be extremely nosy. But she considered her question for a moment, nevertheless. Until a few minutes ago, Emma hadn't even thought of the invisible life in her womb as baby, let alone the gender of it. But as she glanced back to the sun dress, a faint smile played at her lips. "A girl."_

_The woman smiled. "I can see you having a little girl as well. And that dress you have your eye on would be adorable...would you like me to start a wish list for you, and you can email it to people so they can reference it for items to buy for your baby shower?"_

_Emma's stomach knotted uncomfortably. "Oh, no, I'm just browsing today...and I haven't even told my...husband yet. Just keeping things, um, pretty low key for now." She plastered a smile on her face, suddenly having a strong desire to leave the cheery shop. _

"_I see." The woman winked at her, continuing to trail Emma as she headed for the exit. "Be sure to come back in a couple of months."_

_Emma nodded, hurrying through the door before the woman could bombard her any further. She kept a brisk pace until she could no longer see the store, collapsing on the nearest bench as she caught her breath. Her hand shook at she placed it against her stomach, the image of the angelic baby flashing through her mind once again. _

_A baby. _

Her _baby. _

_A rush of inadequacy swept through her. She bit her lip, glancing at the people who passed her, forcing herself to play her game of denial once again. She was just a woman, taking a rest on a nearby bench. Not a woman who counted the days she didn't get beaten, wishing they were less than the days she did. Just a normal woman, maybe planning to call her friends up to invite them to lunch. Not a woman who had no one to confide in, no one to trust. Just a woman who had a family to go back to, someone who loved her. Not a woman who had been used one to many times, fed empty promises until she could no longer find the truth. A strong woman, maybe. A confident woman who could take care of herself. Not a woman who fell prisoner to her own weaknesses, a woman who would soon not only have to take care of herself, but a helpless little baby that nobody wanted. _

_Just was unwanted as she was. _

_She gazed down at her stomach once again, her heart swelling with a new compassion. _

"_I want you," she whispered softly, desperately trying to make the words true. She felt tears sting in the corners of her eyes, feeling a little less alone as she uttered her promise. "I want you."_

XXXX

_Emma pulled the thin sheet tighter around her body as she sat at the window seat, watching Alex sleep. She had made it home long before he reappeared, offering her no explanation for his disappearance. And Emma knew better than to ask him._

_She'd given herself to him without a complaint that night, reminding herself of the precious time she'd spent alone at the mall earlier in the day. She knew that her blessings came at a price, and she felt that she almost deserved the unwanted sex for sneaking around Alex so effectively this afternoon. _

_Alex's face was serene in his slumber, reminding Emma of the charming young man she had fallen for eons ago. Where was that man now? Had it all been a hoax, a false disposition to lure Emma into this trap her life had become?_

_She tried to imagine Alex planning this all along, that he had known from the start that he'd have Emma smothered beneath his need for control. But she could not imagine even Alex, the man that she had grown to fear, grown to hate, planning something this vicious or cruel. He hadn't known anymore than she did that their relationship would end up this way. _

_Alex only wanted to be in charge, to get what he wanted from their relationship, and when Emma could not give him that, he had forced it instead. _

_But why? Emma knew that relationships didn't work out all the time, that people discovered they couldn't give each other what they wanted. But not everyone ended up like this. People moved on, people accepted that things did always go as planned. _

_So why hadn't Alex broken up with her when she could not please him? Why hadn't he moved on and tried to find a woman who could please him in the way he wished?_

_She glanced at Alex once again as he stirred slightly beneath the red comforter and came to the only conclusion she could. _

_Alex had been hurt. Somewhere in a past relationship—something Alex never spoke of—a woman had hurt him. Maybe not in the way he now hurt Emma, but she had hurt him nonetheless. Maybe she had taken his dignity, his confidence—leaving Alex feeling vulnerable and weak. And he had only wanted to regain what he had lost, to prove that he was not a failure. _

_But even soft spoken Emma had been a blow to his confidence. He was only frustrated and scared that he could not make things work, so he had forced them to instead of letting her win like he had in the past. _

_And Emma was stupid enough to fall victim to his need for control. Stupid enough to let him win. _

_She pulled the sheet closer to her naked body, frowning as her eyes fell on Alex once again, sympathy now mixing with her fervent hatred of him. No one deserved to be hurt._

_No one. _

_Not even her._

_She brought her knees to her chest, staring out at the night sky through the window. She glanced down at her stomach, purple and yellow from her latest bruises. She hoped that it hadn't hurt the baby, and it made her feel sick to think about the tiny baby, so small, so helpless falling victim to this vicious lifestyle before it even came into the world. At least Emma had had a chance, a choice—twenty-five years of hope before her world had been crushed. _

_But her baby didn't have that choice. Her baby had to suffer because of her. Because she wasn't strong enough to even stand up for herself. Maybe Emma did deserve to be hurt after all. _

_She rubbed her bare stomach, tears springing to her eyes as she whispered softly into the darkness. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry."_

XXXX

_The mouthwatering scent of tomatoes filled Emma's nostrils as she heated the spaghetti sauce over the stove. When she wasn't too busy feeling nauseous, the thought of almost any food left Emma feeling ravenous. _

_The noodles were beginning to boil on the back burner. Emma danced around the kitchen, humming to a song on the radio that she recognized but couldn't name. _

_She hardly ever cooked. Alex ordered take out most nights, and Emma would pick at what she wanted, but she mostly ate fruit, salads, and occasionally lunch meat she picked up at the organic market near their home. _

_But she grinned, waiting for her simple meal to finish cooking, wondering why she didn't cook more often. She felt happier that she had in weeks. Alex was out golfing, as usual on Saturdays, and her stomach rumbled pleasantly as she dipped her spoon into the sauce, licking the warm mixture from the cooking utensil. It would soon be ready to eat. _

_She lowered the heat on the boiling spaghetti, growing slightly impatient as her stomach rumbled loudly this time. As she pulled a strainer out of the cabinet, she heard the front door click open, causing her to jump. _

"_A-alex," she stuttered as he appeared in the kitchen a moment later, looking gruff and irritated. "Why are you home?"_

"_It's storming out," he spat a little more harshly than necessary. "Can't you tell?"_

_Between the radio and her hunger, she hadn't paid much attention to the patter of rain and the muted claps of thunder. Alex strode across the kitchen, silencing the radio, the constant drone of the rain growing louder. She glanced at her meal, her stomach grumbling. She wondered if she had made enough spaghetti to accommodate Alex, and though he was obviously in a sour mood, she new it would be best to offer. _

"_Dinner's almost ready," she said as cheerily as she could manage, realizing how much she sounded like a housewife. The image was out of place in her twisted reality. "It's just spaghetti and marinara sauce, but you're welcome to join me. I would've made more, but I didn't know you'd be coming home so early..." she trailed off as he approached her, slightly damp from the storm. _

"_I have something a little different in mind," he muttered, reaching out to rub his thumb against her cheek. She quivered, a feeling of dread settling in her hungry stomach. _

"_Alex," she said as firmly as she could manage. "I'm hungry right now."_

_His eyes flashed, causing Emma to wish she had held her tongue. "Well, I'm hungry, too." His lips bore down violently at hers, biting at her fragile skin. He pushed his hand under the hem of her dress, reaching to slide his fingers inside of her. _

_Emma's heart pounded, anger and fear coursing through her trembling body. "No, Alex!" she breathed heavily, pulling her lips away from his. He only slipped his fingers farther, pressing Emma roughly against the counter. _

_With a surge of rage, Emma lifted her knee, jamming it into his crotch. Alex stumbled back in pain, and Emma stared at him in stunned silence. But his angry eyes immediately diminished her victory. He grabbed her arm, his fingernails digging into the fragile skin of her arm. She bit back a whimper, suddenly feeling small and frightened. _

_He brought his face close to hers, gripping her arm harder. "I'm not in the mood to deal with this right now, Emma. Most of my friends have a nice wife to go home to, one who's not afraid to touch them. And then I get you, shaking and crying your eyes out if my hand even so much as brushes you. And now I have you acting like a defiant bitch on top of that. How do you think that makes me feel, Emma?" His breath washed over her face; she hardly noticed the stench of alcohol anymore. "Answer me, Emma."_

"_I-I don't know, A-alex," she mumbled, gritting her teeth as his fingernails dug deeper._

"_Well maybe," he hissed, jerking her body violently, "you should start thinking about it."_

_He released her, her legs immediately giving out as he loosened his grasp. She stumbled backward, falling in the direction of the stove. _

_The impact with sauce pan was what she felt first. Her head hit the metal container, causing a shrill ring to echo through the kitchen. And then her skin began to burn. _

XXXX

_She cried as she tried to wash the sauce from her hair, even the cold water stinging her tender neck._

_The sauce pan had slid off the burner after her head had hit it, causing Emma's neck to brush against the glowing burner. Though the branding contact had only lasted for a few seconds, the damage had been done. Emma could not see the burn, but the searing pain against her delicate skin told her that it was not pleasant. _

_Emma had run for the bathroom immediately, the warm red sauce mixing with her hair. Alex had left the apartment, slamming the door in his rage. His sudden disappearances were becoming more common, ever since that first Sunday morning she had found him gone. He never told her where he went on these occasions, and Emma never dared to ask. _

_She crumpled against the bathroom floor, the shower head still spewing water. She buried her face in her knees, trying to ignore the incessant pain. Her damp hair hung in strings against her face, still smelling faintly of tomatoes. _

_She gritted her teeth, rising from the floor as she dared to look at herself in the mirror. Her shoulder length hair would easily cover the damage, invisible to the rest of the world, just like all the other wounds Alex inflicted upon her. _

_But this one wasn't really his fault. It was just a mistake. Just a damn mistake like everything else in her life. _

_If anything, it was her fault. If she hadn't been so incited**, **so enraged, instead letting Alex have her like he wanted, the incident would've never happened. _

_She sighed, dressing in her rumpled clothes she had quickly disposed on the bathroom floor. Later, she hoped, her neck would not hurt so badly, and then she could take a proper shower. She stepped into the kitchen, the sauce pan dripping over the edge of the stove. In the other pan, the noodles clung to the bottom of the pan, clumped and burnt. Her stomach rumbled, almost cruelly, and as she slowly began to clean the kitchen, she could not stop her sobs._

XXXX

_The burn only felt worse as she undressed for the night. She knew a shower was out of the question, and it only made her cry harder as her stiff hair hair brushed against her cheek._

_Alex had not returned home yet, and though Emma found herself glad that she could sob in peace, she grew increasingly anxious as he remained missing. By midnight, her eyelids were drooping heavily. She padded softly down the hall to the periwinkle room, taking advantage of Alex's absence so she could sleep in comfort. But every noise, every creak caused her eyes to fly open in terror. _

_Biting her lip, she straightened the comforter on the bed, walking regretfully down the hall to the red room. The king-sized bed felt massive as she crawled beneath the sheets, but somehow she felt safer, knowing that if Alex returned home to find her here, he'd have no reason to hurt her. _

_Struggling to find a comfortable way to position her head, Emma drifted off into a fitful slumber._

XXXX

_She panicked as soon as she saw the blood in her underwear. Even she knew she wasn't supposed to be getting her period right now, and she knew the blood was not a good sign. Was there something wrong with the baby? Her mind flashed back to Alex's latest beating, wondering if this one had been the last straw._

_She took in a deep breath, settling her thoughts as the answer came to her. She remembered Gwen freaking out when she had been pregnant with Olivia, spotting early on her pregnancy. She had called the doctor, who had told her that spotting was common in the first trimester, but if the flow of blood increased, she should come into the office immediately. _

_Emma let out a sigh of relief as she left the bathroom, falling against the couch. She rubbed her belly, slightly swollen beneath her bruises. Though hardly round enough to show beneath her clothes, the small curve of her belly was undeniable. _

"_Bleeding's normal, baby," she whispered softly. She had formed the habit of talking to her stomach when Alex was not around. She knew the baby could not hear her, knowing that the little life inside of her hardly looked like the angelic baby that always flashed into her mind. But Emma liked to imagine her beautiful baby protected inside her nevertheless. Tiny little hands with ten perfect fingers, a round little face with a small mouth that smiled every time it heard her voice. "I promise, we'll go to the doctor's soon. We'll make sure you're strong and healthy."_

_The idea of a doctor's appointment had been tugging in the back of her mind for a while now. She knew there were vitamins, ultrasounds, checkups that she needed to insure that the baby was developing normally. But Emma could not ignore the bruises that stained her abdomen, and she had been working extra hard to avoid Alex's impulsive beatings so she could schedule an appointment during one of his common absences._

_Alex's disappearances gave Emma time to think, time to sort through what her future held. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide her pregnancy from Alex for too much longer, and she was determined she'd be gone before Alex even could guess the magnitude of the secret she was hiding. _

_Leaving didn't seem as frightening as it did months before, when she had no where to go, no future to look forward to. But now she had her baby, another life to protect, a motive to fight. It no longer mattered that Alex was her last shot, the only man who would take her in her broken condition. She imagined living somewhere else, an unknown location for now, raising her child, and it didn't matter to her that she'd be doing on her own. Picturing the perfect child in her arms made her feel less alone, more hopeful as dreamed of a future she had never imagined possible. _

_She knew that her flawless image of motherhood was a far cry from reality. She knew there would be messes and hardships and no turning back. She knew that before she'd be able to hold her beautiful child in her arms, she'd have to suffer through a painful, messy birth. It scared her when she thought of these truths she'd have to face, wondering if she'd be able to handle it all. _

_But somehow, the messes, the pain, the uncertainty didn't seem as frightening when she was doing it for someone she loved. It made it all worth it when she put aside her own worries, sacrificing herself for this little life she already loved more than she could've ever imagined. _

"_Soon, baby," she whispered again, wrapping her arms protectively around her abdomen. "Soon, it will be just you and me. Soon."_

XXXX

_As the bleeding continued in the following days, accompanied by mild cramping, Emma grew increasingly anxious, the idea of leaving becoming more tangible than before. _

_She knew the physical act of leaving would be easiest. Alex's absences had become so frequent and predictable that she could've left ages ago if she desired. But once she was gone, she knew there would be no turning back. She needed to plan carefully, making sure that she would be prepared for the months that lay ahead. _

_She would have to quit her job at the firm and find a new one. She had enough money saved up to support herself without employment for a few months, but her meager savings would only last her so long. She'd need to find a place of her own to stay, a doctor near her new home—leaving was not as simple as walking out the door. _

_But Alex had not been home for the past couple of days now, and Emma could not ignore the ideal circumstances. And since the bleeding had not stopped, Emma found herself growing nervous, knowing that she could not put off a doctor's visit much longer. Hopefully she could brush her bruises off as an excuse that she had merely fallen. Her need to protect her child was becoming stronger than her desire to protect herself. _

_It was early evening when Emma packed her bag, the same carpet bag that she had packed for a much different occasion so many months ago. She packed only what she needed, regretting leaving behind her beautiful clothing, but she promised herself once she got a stable job and new home, she'd replace them before she had a chance to miss them. _

_She tucked the bag under the bed in the periwinkle room, deciding she'd leave first thing in the morning, giving her an entire day to get as far from her living hell as she could manage. She smiled faintly, feeling proud as she took the first step to regain control over her life. _

XXX

"_Get out of bed," the harsh voice woke her, and she felt a strong pair of hands clamp around her arm, "and tell me what the hell this is."_

_Her eyelids flew open as Alex dragged her from beneath the red comforter. In his free hand, he held her bag, dangling from his grasp as a feeling of dread settled in stomach. _

"_H-h-how'd you find that?" she muttered, her face growing pale as Alex throttled the bag against the floor, now gripping her trembling body with both of his hands. _

"_You think I'm stupid, don't you—and because I'm not around as much anymore that you can get away with anything you want?" he spat, inching his face closer to hers. Her knees buckled as he loomed over her, and he only jerked her shaking form as she nearly collapsed tot he ground._

_She bit back a whimper, floundering for the right words. "Alex, it's not like that..."_

"_Not like that? Emma, don't lie to me. You can't play dumb—I know you're planning to leave me." The accusation hung heavily in the air as Alex's fingernails dug deeper into her skin. _

_She pushed through her fear, through her need to protect only herself as the vision of her baby flashed through her mind. She lifted her chin, leveling her gaze with Alex's. "Why shouldn't I leave?" The words rang clear as they left her mouth, momentarily stunning both of them. "Beside the fact that you treat me like _shit _day after, beside the fact that I _know _you don't love me—that I _deserve _someone far better than you. Putting _all _that aside," she gulped in a breath, pushing the words from her lips—the truth she had ignored. "I know you've been cheating on me, Alex." She watched his face harden, twisting into an unforgivable glare as his expression confirmed the truth. "And don't _you _try to play dumb with me. Always disappearing without an excuse—you've been seeing someone else. She's probably prettier than me, more confident than I am—better at giving you what you want. And I know the only reason you keep coming back to me is because you're afraid you won't be able to control her the way you control me. You still need me to feel better about yourself—but Alex, I'm done with this. I'm done with you."_

_His eyes flashed with rage, and she couldn't hold in her yelp as he clenched her arm tighter in his grasp. He brought his hand to her neck, slamming her head against the wall. The raw burn on the back of her neck seared as it rubbed against her hair upon making contact with the wall. She bit her tongue, tasting blood as she tried not to scream. "You listen to me, Emma." He held her neck so tightly that she was scarcely able to breath. "You listen to me good. If you leave now, there's no coming back. I don't care how alone you feel, how sorry you are, or how much you might want to—because both of us know that no one's going to want you. No one can love now, Emma. You're lucky I even bother to put up with anymore—that I give you a place to stay, because you're right Emma. I could have so much better than you, and if you leave me, I'm going to get just that. Do you understand that, Emma?" She somehow managed to nod, gasping for breath as he tightened his grip. "Always remember what I can do to you, Emma. Don't you ever forget."_

_As he shoved her harder against the wall, releasing her from his grasp, her head hit the door frame with a sickening thud. Her cheek grazed against the edge as she crumpled to the floor. She felt his foot jab into her ribs, momentarily knocking the wind out of her. She instinctively reached to cover her stomach, giving the last of her strength to protect her baby._

_She didn't register when he left her, twisted in a tight ball, silent tears streaming down her face. She vaguely heard the front door slam shut, the silence settling heavily around her. _

_She closed her eyes, pulling her knees tightly to her chest, trying to forget. _

_Trying to hope. _

XXXX

_She didn't move for a long time._

_Hours, years, eons slipping past as her salty tears dried against her face, mixing with the blood from the gash on her cheek. Her stomach twisted in pain, though she couldn't recall Alex kicking her there._

_She slipped in and out of consciousness, memories and dreams swirling through her clouded mind. Her first memory, Tom knocking over the rows of dolls she had spent hours to arrange when she had only been three-years-old. The tears that had followed. The feel of her Daddy's arms around her as he kissed away her tears. The scene switched to the dairy farm she had grown up down the road from. The heavy scent of manure flashed in her memory, only growing stronger as she felt Tom's arms angrily push against her back. Her Daddy's strong arms around her once again, promising her that everything would be okay. But the smell—the smell never seemed to go away. The blurred images changed as she walked through the halls of her high school, watching couples pressed up against the lockers, watching them touch, watching them kiss, wondering if someone would ever love her like that. Next, the first day she had seen Alex, his beautiful smile, a hope that she wouldn't end up forgotten. Her Daddy's pleads for her not to move in with him. Alex's blaring red eyes as he raped her for the first time. The panic in her stomach when she had first realized she was pregnant. The feeling that coursed through her when she realized she was going to have a baby. The swelling in her heart when she realized she was going to be a mother. _

_She opened her eyes, sunlight streaming faintly from the window across the room. She lifted her head, feeling groggy and dizzy for a moment. As she propped her aching body up against he elbow, a rush of pain swept through her abdomen. Glancing down her body, she realized that her white nightgown was drenched in blood. _

XXXX

_By the time she crawled into bed, she had soaked through almost three pads. She had watched the water turn pink as she showered, the flow of blood seeping between her thighs. _

_She didn't care if Alex came back and found her in the periwinkle bed. She didn't care if he raped her until she could no longer breathe. She didn't care if he hit her until she died. _

_She didn't care. _

_She had no reason left to care. _

_No reason at all._

XXXX

_Four days. _

_Four days later, and Alex had not come back. _

_Four days later, and the blood had finally stopped. _

_Four days later, and she hadn't moved from the periwinkle bed. _

_Four days later, and she had no tears left to cry. _

XXXX

_She held the bag tightly in her grasp, standing outside the familiar door. _

_She had been standing there for almost twenty minutes now, her hand paralyzed at her side, unsure why she had bothered to pull herself from the periwinkle bed. Unsure why she had showered and pulled on a fresh outfit. Unsure why she grabbed her bag that had been left in a heap on the floor. Unsure what had even possessed her to come here. _

"_Do you need something, Miss?" She turned to see an elderly gentleman looking at her quizzically, hobbling down the hall on a wobbly walker. "You've been standing there for quite some time..."_

"_Oh, no, I'm fine," she muttered, gripping her bag tighter. "I was just about to knock."_

_He nodded, smiling pleasantly at her. It hurt her lips as she forced her own mouth into a false grin, waiting until he had disappeared around the corner before brining her fist to the door._

XXXX

"_One minute," she heard from the opposite side of the door. Footsteps. The click of the lock. She held her breath._

"_Emma? Is everything alright?"_

"_Tom," she muttered, unable to look him in the eye as her bag slipped from her grasp. _

_And then she began to cry. _

XXXX

"_Breathe, Emma, breathe," Tom tried to soothe her, picking her bag up from the floor as he ushered her into the apartment. "Tell me what happened." _

_She sat down on the couch, shaking as she removed her shoes before bringing her knees to her chest. Tom sat beside her, reaching out to rub her shoulder without a thought. She rocked, back and forth, back and forth._

"_Emma," Tom tried again. "What happened?" She didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him. She bit her lip, swallowing a sob. His hand strayed from her shoulder to her face, fingering the gash she had not bothered to cover. _

"_Did he do this to you?"_

_She didn't answer him. _

XXXX

_She vaguely remembered Tom pulling the blanket over her trembling body, staying for a moment as he stroked her hair in silence. His fingers had brushed against her tender burn, but she had promptly squeezed her eyes closed, and he had said nothing. _

_He left when he thought she had fallen asleep, leaving her alone in the darkness. The faint glow of moonlight stretched against the couch, bathing the room in a pearly light. She reached out to touch it, her hand ghostly pale in the stretch of white._

_She pulled the blanket tighter against her neck, wishing, hoping, praying, wondering. _

_But mostly just hurting. _

XXXX

"_We have to be quiet, Liv." _

_The voice pulled her from a dreamless sleep, the hazy moonlight now replaced by a stream of sunlight as she opened her eyes. _

_She heard a shriek, followed by a shush. She struggled to a sitting position, noticing Gwen and Olivia in the adjoining kitchen. _

"_Sorry for waking you, Emma," Gwen apologized, holding a lively Olivia in her grasp. "Did you sleep alright?"_

_Emma nodded as Gwen approached her, joining her on the couch. _

"_Where's Tom?" she croaked, her voice still thick with tears. _

"_Work. He'll be home around five tonight...though I'm sure you can call him if you need to talk," Gwen quickly added, bouncing Olivia on her lap. _

"_No, no, it's fine," Emma assured her, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as Gwen gazed upon her with pity. She averted her eyes from her sister-in-law, looking at her bubbly niece instead. "Can I hold her?"_

"_Of course," Gwen smiled, handing a wriggling Olivia over to Emma. "Do you mind if I go make her breakfast while I have my hands free?" The humor in her tone was forced, but Emma smiled nevertheless, nodding as Gwen disappeared into the kitchen. _

_Emma pulled the baby against her chest, surprised when her energetic niece did not struggle. Instead, she let her small head fall into the crook of Emma's neck, waiting patiently as Emma wrapped her arms around her body, momentarily filling the empty hole in Emma's stomach. _

XXXX

"_Olivia!" Gwen scolded, picking up the piece of broccoli from the floor. "You do not throw food!" _

_Olivia only shrieked with delight, throwing a second piece of broccoli on the floor, clapping her chubby little hands together as Emma bit back a laugh. _

_The day had been uneventful. Gwen, a kindergarten teacher, had off from work for an in service day, so she had spent the day at home with Olivia and Emma. Emma had cleaned and watched her niece while Gwen had run a couple of errands, and as evening rolled in, Gwen had pleasantly asked Emma if she would like to help prepare dinner. _

_She now cut vegetables for a salad as Gwen cooked the chicken, glad that Gwen seemed so easily accepted her presence without prying. _

_The door clicked open, and Olivia immediately twisted in her high chair, forgetting her broccoli throwing game as Tom stepped into the kitchen. "Dadda!"_

"_Hi to you too, Liv," Tom grinned, bending over to press a kiss to his daughter's forehead. He turned to his wife, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "How was your day?"_

"_Pretty good," Gwen told him, prying open the oven to check on the chicken. The aroma of lemon and spice floated through the small kitchen. "Emma was very helpful—she ended up cleaning most of the house."_

_Tom turned to Emma, who had stopped cutting the stalk of broccoli mid-slice as his eyes fell on her. She knew that Tom would not be as tactful as Gwen. _

"_How much longer until dinner is ready, honey?" Tom surprised Emma by turning to his wife with the question, and she let out a breath as she continued to slice. _

"_About twenty minutes," Gwen informed him, placing a pot of water on the back burner to boil for rice. _

"_Do you mind if Emma and I go for a little walk before we eat?"_

_Emma's head shot up, the knife nearly grazing her finger as it slid down the stalk. "Tom..."_

"_Emma, please." He approached her, taking the knife from her shaking hand and placing it against the cutting board. "Just a short walk."_

_She didn't want to start an argument, didn't want to make a scene. Gwen had already busied herself with the rice, and Olivia looked quizzically from her father to her aunt, as if sensing the tension. _

_Emma nodded, following Tom to the door and slipping on her shoes. "Where are we going?"_

"_There's a little park right down the road from the complex," Tom informed her, stepping onto the elevator. She relished the silence as she joined him, gathering her thoughts before he spoke. _

_Tom waited until they had stepped out of the lobby of the building, the air strangely warm for mid September, demanding the information that Emma had been dreading. "What happened, Emma?"_

_Her lips felt dry as she ran her tongue against them, shooting a darting glance toward Tom. "Nothing."_

"_Damn it, Emma," Tom's voice rose, his face flaring up to match the color of his hair. "I'm sick of you lying to me—I'm sick of you lying to yourself."_

"_Tom, I don't really want to talk," she mumbled, pulling her cardigan tighter against her shoulders as she turned away from him. _

_She was surprised to feel Tom's hand brush against her shoulder, yanking the cardigan from her arms before she had a chance to react. He balled it up, clenching the thin material in his hands as he eyes fell upon the black and blue welts on her skin. "What else did he do to you, Emma? What else?"_

_Tears spilled profusely from her eyes, tasting salty as she spoke, turning her face away from her brother's enraged expression. "Tom, you're scaring me..."_

_His face softened, loosening his grip on the sweater as he reached gently for her arms, taking a closer at her bruises. "Oh, Emma." His voice cracked as muttered the words, tears welling from his own eyes. Emma's breath caught as a sob tore through her brother, watching his angry __façade __melt away. She could not remember ever seeing her brother cry. _

"_Shh, Tom," she soothed, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck, holding him close to her. "It's okay..."_

"_No, it's not okay," he choked, reaching to gently stroke her wounded arm. "How could I let this happen to you? My baby sister..."_

"_Tom, please," Emma begged, trying to hold the both of them together. "You can't blame yourself. Please don't blame yourself."_

"_No, Em, I knew something was wrong these past few months, but I didn't want to push you—didn't want to believe it was actually true..." he trailed off, his voice rising as he suppressed another bout of tears. _

"_Tom, please stop blaming yourself," she muttered, pulling away from his grasp. "It's my fault, not yours..."_

_His eyes flashed to hers, his anger flaring once again. "Emma, you listen to me. This is not your fault...what that bastard did to you is not your fault. I never want to hear you say that, Emma."_

_She nodded, only to appease him. He didn't know. He didn't know the half of it, and Emma was not about to tell him. _

"_You could press charges, you know...get that bastard behind bars where he belongs," Tom practically seethed._

"_No, Tom," Emma muttered too quickly, flinching visibly as she only thought about bringing this to court. Not when it was her fault as well. "I just want this all to be over..."_

_Tom sighed, the same look of pity Gwen had given her earlier that morning sweeping across his face. _

"_Dinner's probably ready," Emma offered, glancing back toward the direction they had come from. _

_Tom nodded, falling in step with Emma. When they neared the building, Emma smiled appreciatively as he draped her cardigan over her shoulders. _

XXXX

_Nights were the worst, sleeping fitfully on the couch. _

_His face appeared too often in her dreams, the flash of blue eyes sending spasms of terror through her. Even when she dreamt of the beautiful baby, reaching for her tiny pink hands in the darkness, his face would sweep in instead, taking the image of her angelic child with him._

_She'd wake, her face wet with tears, wrapping her arms around her flat, empty stomach. _

XXXX

_Tom found her one night, out on the balcony as she stared at the cloudy sky. _

"_You alright, Em?" he muttered, looking worried through the veil of darkness. _

_She turned, letting a breath out of her open lips. "Tom, what if he comes back for me?" she voiced the fear that had been pressing in her mind. _

"_Em, I promise, I won't let him hurt you again."_

_She let his words settle around her they entered the house, trying to push away visions of Alex's face as she crawled back onto the couch, replacing his image with Tom's promise instead. _

XXXX

_She spent the days watching Olivia. _

_She especially liked taking Olivia to the park, holding the little girl's hand as she tottered along beside her, her flaming hair matching the color of the changing leaves. _

"_Your daughter is precious," a women told Emma one day as Olivia ran down the path ahead of her, chasing a fallen maple leaf. _

_The comment startled Emma for a moment, but she quickly composed herself, glancing at her lively niece. "Thank you," Emma smiled broadly, not bothering to correct the woman as she quickened her pace to she catch up with Olivia, sweeping the child up in her arms, earning a giggle from Olivia. _

"_I love you, Olivia," she told her, placing a kiss on the toddler's rosy cheek. "I love you so much."_

XXXX

"_You should go visit Mom and Dad," Tom told her one evening as they did the dishes. Gwen had taken Olivia down to the bathroom to give her a bath. _

_The comment caused Emma to stiffen. She finished drying the plate she was holding before she spoke. "I don't know, Tom..."_

"_Emma, they miss you. I think it's only fair you go see them..." Tom trailed off, handing her a dripping pot. _

"_Have you...told them anything?" Emma dared to ask, absentmindedly taking the pot from his grasp. _

"_No," he told her, stopping mid-scrub as he looked at her. "It's not my place to tell..."_

_Emma smiled appreciatively, feeling relieved. "I'll go soon, Tom," she told him, wondering how many more empty promises she'd have to feed him. _

XXXX

_She couldn't keep pretending. _

_The conversation with Tom over the dishes had pushed her back into reality, reminding her that this little life she had fabricated had only been temporary. A month with Tom and Gwen had given her time to sort through her life, mending her fragileness. Her bruises were now healed, barely even noticable against her pale skin, and her time with Alex had now only become a haunting memory._

_She glanced at the note she had written, reading it over once more before placing it on the kitchen counter. _

Tom and Gwen,

Thank you so much for giving me a place to stay these past few weeks. I appreciate it more than I can even express. I'm sorry I have to leave you this way, without a proper goodbye, but I'm not sure I could handle it any other way. I don't know where I'm going yet, but I promise I'll let you know as soon as I know myself. Please don't worry about me—I know I'll be fine. It's time for me to start over, to get my second chance.

I love you both so much.

Emma

P.S. Give Olivia a kiss for me.

_Her eyes grew bleary as she tucked the note near the coffee pot, padding softly into the living room where her bag rested on the couch. Taking it in her grasp, she headed for the door, stepping out into the dark hall. _

_She had never imagined that these would be the circumstances that she would finally muster the independence to live on her own, to start her own life, free from the ties of any other person._

_As she exited the lobby, she glanced up at the night sky, a myriad of stars winking down on her. She placed her bag in the trunk, taking in a deep breath as she opened the door, slipping into her seat. Remembering the words from her note, Emma turned her key in the ignition of her car, embarking on her second chance._

* * *

_A/N: Sorry this chapter took me a bit longer than usual. Getting my wisdom teeth out last week put me a bit behind schedule..._

_Bravo to the handful of people who guessed correctly about Emma's pregnancy after last chapter. And thank you to Greys has become my life, who gave me the idea of having Emma go to Tom when she left. _

_It might be a little bit before I can get the next chapter up...I'm leaving for vacation on Friday, and I have a lot to do in preparation. But I should be able to get some writing done while I'm away...I'm unsure if I'll have internet or not, but at least I'll have something to post for you when I come back. _

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: gleefan, IHEARTWEMMA, Alyssa_, _Honest Reviewer, fadedglass, New Gleek, lodvg, Clara, D, and OOOOOOOMYGOSH.  
_


	10. Chapter X

_Chapter X_

She allowed Will to hold her, burying her face in the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around her. She felt protected, safe from the gripping memories that ripped through her, opening like poorly mended wounds as she exposed every insecurity, every last part of herself.

When she had finished, he held her still, never faltering, never letting her fall. She felt lighter somehow, as though a weight she hadn't even comprehended had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. She licked her dry lips, noticing that the heaviness in her throat was no longer present. And she felt him, more than she had before, skin against skin, holding her tightly, holding her together when she could no longer do the task herself. She had opened herself, and he was slowly beginning to stitch her back together. For the first time in eons, she allowed herself to breathe, to release the grip that held her in an iron lock.

She named her strange, lovely feeling. She named it a word that she had long since forgotten.

Relief.

She smiled so faintly, so lightly, so purely, the new emotion tearing through her fragile body. A sob escaped her lips, a soft, whimpering sob that carried her hurt, pushing out her brokenness as the relief continued to settle within her.

"Shh, Em," he whispered, his lips against her ear. He rocked her, her soothed her, pushing the relief deeper and deeper into her trembling body.

The late hour pulsed around them, reminding Emma that this could not last forever. That she could not stop the world as she remained cocooned in Will's arms for eternity. That she would have to return home to the emptiness of her bed, reality once again engulfing her.

"Will," she muttered, her voice sounding clearer, more attached than it had as she had struggled through the truth, spilling her story.

She felt his arms tighten around her, holding her close, keeping her close. "Yes, Emma?"

She found her words, uttering the request. "Can I stay? Can I spend the night...with you?"

"Of course," he breathed as she sighed against him.

He gently untangled her body from his, keeping his fingers laced with hers as he stood. She kept close to him as they walked the dark halls to his bedroom.

"Do you need a shower?" he asked, the simple, mundane question sounding almost strange in contrast to the heavy tone of the conversation before.

"No, not tonight," she told him. A shower would give her time to think, time to ponder, time to regret. And right now, Emma simply wished to feel. She wished to feel wanted, loved, safe. She wished to relish this relief that she knew would only be fleeting.

He handed her the shirt that she had worn during her last visit, stepping out of the room courteously as Emma slipped from her clothes, pulling the soft material over her body. It smelled like fabric softener, the clean scent putting her at ease.

"Will," she spoke his name softly, beckoning him back to her. As he entered the room, she slid her arms around his waist, holding him tightly against her as she began to realize just how much she needed the feel of him to survive. He brushed a gentle kiss against the crown of her head, wrapping his own arms around her.

She used the bathroom while he changed into a t-shirt and cotton pajama shorts for the night. Without a word, they slipped beneath the white comforter, the gentle softness of it settling around Emma.

"Will," she muttered as his arms reached around her once again. "I'm sorry."

"Em, what are you apologizing for?" he immediately scolded. She felt his hand stray to her hair in the darkness, beginning the methodical motion of stroking her locks.

"For putting all this on you...at once. I know it's a lot, and—and I'm sorry," she helplessly floundered for the right words, an adequate way to let him know that she didn't want him to suffer as well.

"Em, listen to me." Though soft in the darkness, his voice was firm. "I don't want you to apologize to me. I don't want you to regret telling me this—you don't believe how honored I feel that you trusted me enough to tell me. I want to be here for you now, more than ever. I meant what I said before—that I want to be that guy who won't abandon you when things get tough. I know this is a lot, Em. I went from thinking I knew a lot about you to realizing I only knew the slightest fraction. But that doesn't change anything. I still love you—Em, I want you to know that I still love you, so, so much."

She felt the tears begin to leak out of the corners of her eyes, tasting the words as she uttered them for the first time. "I love you, too, Will."

He wiped her tears away as they streamed down her cheeks, waiting patiently as they ran their course. As her breaths became slower, her salty tears drying against her face, Will brought his lips gently to her forehead. "Sleep, Emma."

His voice was hushed, a soft cloud of air washing over her face. She let her eyelids flutter closed, allowing herself to drift away.

XXXX

_The pleasant glow of sunlight poured through the open drapes. She opened her eyes, breathing in the scent of morning. She smiled faintly, reaching for Will, wanting him to hold her once again. But his side of the bed was empty. _

"_Will?" she muttered hesitantly, straining to hear if he were in the bathroom. _

_She frowned when she earned no response. She pulled herself into a sitting position, pushing the red comforter away from her body. She froze. _

_Red comforter. _

_As her eyes darted around the bedroom, she realized it was not the safe room she had drifted to sleep in. The all too familiar setting sent a jolt of panic through her. _

"_Will!" she shrieked, louder this time."Will!"_

_The door creaked open, and for a moment, a wave of relief washed over Emma, until she was greeted by a pair of blue eyes._

"_I know you told him, Emma," he hissed at her, coming over to the bed. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy as she struggled to move, paralyzed by a invisible force. He grabbed her chin roughly, boring his eyes into hers. "I know you told him everything. And I know you love him."_

_She whimpered as she felt his hand sear against the skin of her thigh, his eyes darting to the shirt that Will had given her. _

"_You thought you could run, Emma—you thought you could forget. You thought you could forget me; you thought you could forget what _you _did. You thought you could forget that it was all your fault." He shoved his hand farther, quickly ripping her panties away from her trembling body. "But I'm here to remind you. I'm here to remind you just what I can do to you, Emma."_

_She screamed, thrashing as he forced his hands inside of her. _

"_Will!" she sobbed again, knowing that her shrieks only made it worse, made him push farther._

_He pulled himself onto of her pinning her flailing body effortlessly to the bed. "He won't come for you, Emma. We both know that. We both know you're not worth it."_

_As he tore her t-shirt from her body, ripping the thin material of the McKinley High effortlessly, a final shriek left her lips, pulling her into a wave of darkness, tossing her into emptiness..._

...But as she surfaced, she felt a warmth encircle her, softly pulling her in.

"Will," she choked again, feebly, the disorienting night settling around her. Still night. It was still night, and she was safe in Will's arms.

"Shh, Emma," he whispered, wiping her hair away from her sweaty forehead. "Another nightmare?" His words were pained, filled with heaviness as he struggled to protect her from what what out of his control.

She nodded, tears of relief spilling from her eyes. Just a nightmare. She caught her breath, tucking her face into his shoulder. He stroked her hair, the even motion settling her pounding heart.

"You dream about him still, don't you?" he managed to whisper.

She nodded again, her throat tightening. "I dream—I dream that he comes back for me."

"Oh, Emma." His voice broke, pulling her closer. "Oh, sweetheart..."

"It's a silly nightmare, really," she mumbled into the sleeve of his shirt. "He won't come for me. Even I'm not worth that..." she muttered, remembering the harsh words from her dream.

"Emma, you're worth everything. You're worth everything and more. How can I make you believe that?" he pleaded with her.

She didn't answer; he made it easy to believe the words. "Thank you, Will."

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Em," he whispered.

"No, Will, I want to thank you. I've never told anyone before. Not even Tom—he's only guessed about all that actually happened. I've always been too afraid to share...you know, afraid of how people would react, afraid of admitting it out loud, afraid—afraid of someone finding out that it was all my fault—"

"Em, it's not your fault. Not any of it. You cannot blame yourself _at all _for what that disgusting excuse for a man did to you. Emma, you can't keep carrying all this guilt..." His arms wove more tightly around her as he held her fiercely against him.

"I understand that," she reasoned with him. "I understand that more now...than before. But I let him, Will. I let him...hurt me. And I was too naïve and stupid to realize what he was doing to me until it was too late."

He let out a heavy sigh, reaching for her face as he ran his thumb softly across her cheek. "Emma," he began, starting the futile argument. He swallowed his words, instead catching her gaze through the glow of moonlight. "How do I fix you, Emma? How do I make you whole again?"

Emma's breath caught, undone by his words, trying to grasp the reality that he truly cared about her so, so much. She couldn't remember a time when she had felt as whole as she did now, basking in Will's endless compassion. "Just hold me, Will." _Just hold me forever. _

He brought her closer to him, complying as he wrapped his arms around her, fitting her body perfectly against the contours of his own. "It's going to be okay, Emma," he promised her. "I'll always be here to hold you."

XXXX

She awoke this time, still wrapped in Will's arms, to the hazy morning sunlight streaming across white comforter.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Will whispered, smiling faintly as her eyelids fluttered into focus.

Her lips curved upward, her heart accelerating as he brushed his lips against her eyebrow. Her dreamless slumber had been healing, leaving her feeling refreshed as her brief nightmare became only a memory.

"What time is it?" she wondered, pulling the bunched material of the t-shirt from her stomach to cover her thighs.

"Just after eleven," he told her, watching her eyes grow wide.

"Wow, I never sleep this late," she muttered, pulling her knees to her chest, glancing at Will through her lashes.

"We had a late night," Will reasoned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "And besides, that's the beauty of summer...waking up late and staying in your pajamas all day long."

An involuntary giggle escaped her lips, forcing her mouth into a larger grin. She was surprised to find that her relief had not faded; somehow Will's promise that everything would fall into place now felt so tangible. "Maybe," she told him, musing for a moment, "we can just stay in bed all day, too."

Will laughed, giving her an odd look as he reached gently for her face. "I honestly can't figure you out."

She suppressed another giggle, just as confused by her sudden bout of euphoria as Will was. She just knew that he made her so happy, and with the heaviness of her confession lost in the darkness of the night behind them, she found it easier to focus on what she felt in the present instead of letting her repressing memories plague her.

He rubbed his hand softly against her cheek, his face close enough to hers that she could feel his breath against her face. She dipped her face, ever so slightly as she inclined her lips toward his, wanting nothing more than to feel his gentle touch against her.

He twisted his face, pulling away from her before their lips could brush.

A worried expression crossed his face as she dared to glance at him. He was scared. He was scared to hurt her, scared to push her too far. Every time he looked at her, the vivid truth would now flash through his mind. Was that all he could see—the damaged girl who could not properly express her love?

Slightly frustrated, she reached to gently touch his cheek. "Will, you can kiss me."

He sighed heavily. "I know I can, Em, but I didn't want to push you. I completely understand why it's so hard for you—why it makes you feel uncomfortable, and I'm perfectly fine with keeping our relationship more platonic until you feel more comfortable."

She sighed, biting down on her lip as she glanced at him, trying to explain. "Will, I want you to know that—that I'm not scared of you." She rested her hand gently on his neck.

"No, Em, that's not what I was implying," Will quickly amended, lowering her hand from his skin.

She twisted her fingers through his own. "I was afraid at first when I realized how much," she cleared her throat, looking down at their intertwined hands, "how much I want you. How much I want you to touch me. How much I want you to kiss me. I never thought I'd feel this way—not after I'd spent so much time convincing myself it had to feel so wrong." His hand tightened around hers. "It's still hard for me, you know, trying to allow myself to let it feel all right. You were never supposed to happen...I was so convinced that nobody would ever want me again, and if someone did, I'd never have the courage to let him in. But you, Will—you're all I've ever wanted, even though I never knew it. And I don't want to be scared anymore. I don't want to push you away."

She reached for his face again, fighting to bring her lips to his, but he gently turned away from her once again. "Emma, just because you're hesitant doesn't mean you're pushing me away. I understand that you've been hurt, and it's only natural that you panic. It's fine that we're going to take things slowly. Marrying the first woman I dated made me naïve—I had grown so used to being in a comfortable physical relationship over the years that I automatically tried to do the same with you. But I'm learning, Emma. I've learned a lot. The physical part of a relationship is only a small part of it. There's so much more that has to come first, and Em, I want to do this right. I want you, too, Emma. I want you, insecurities and all. I want you to realize you never have to be anything you're not—not for me."

He bent over, cupping her chin gently as he brushed his lips chastely against hers. She sighed, smiling as he pulled away. "I love you, Will." She loved him so much, and with each selfless act, the feeling only grew stronger.

He smiled. "You know I love you too, Em. So what would you like to do—if you're still in the mood to lounge in bed all day, I'm not opposed to that." He chuckled, falling back against the pillows.

Emma snuggled beside him, closing her eyes as she listened to the cadence of his breathing. "I need to shower at some point," she muttered.

"I figured you'd bring that up eventually," he told her, playing gently with her fingers as they rested against his chest. "I have an idea—why don't you treat yourself to a bubble bath while I make us some breakfast?"

"A bubble bath?" she laughed, the idea suddenly delighting her.

"Have you seen my tub?" Will asked, his excitement pulsing as he took her hand, leading her to the bathroom.

She only vaguely remembered seeing the large, clawfoot tub resting beside the shower during the power outage. But now as he showed her to the brightly lit bathroom, her mouth hung open as she stared at the old fashioned tub, an array of bath soaps lined up on a shelf behind it.

"I thought you might like this," he grinned, taking her closer. "It's fairly simple to use—this dial turns the water on, and you use this one to adjust the heat." She nodded. "Oh, and one more thing—will you eat pancakes, or should I make something else?"

"Pancakes sound lovely—I'll eat food with milk if it's already been mixed in," she explained, distracted by the various soaps as she spoke.

"Oh, I almost forgot—there's about five different kinds of bubbles here. And there's some body wash here, and—" He stepped into the shower, sliding the door to the side, taking an item off the shelf. "Here's the shampoo you used last time."

"Thanks, Will," she told him.

He smiled in return, pressing a gentle kiss against the soft skin of her cheek. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Once he had gone, she rummaged through the vanity cabinet, feeling slightly guilty as she produced a bottle of Comet shower cleaner. It didn't take her long to scour the tub, and soon she had warm water spouting from the faucet, filling the sizable tub. She poured a squirt of bubble bath into the steaming water, the scent of cinnamon soon wafting through the bathroom.

After disposing of Will's shirt in the hamper, she slipped beneath the bubbles, allowing the foamy water to wash over her body. She pulled her hair away from her neck, slightly annoyed that she had nothing to pin it back with. Her fingers skimmed against damaged skin of her neck as she let her hair fall against her shoulders. It didn't scare her as much it had before, the searing memories nearly suppressing her each time her fingers would brush it, reminding her of the truth she so desperately wanted to forget.

She remembered Will's gentle fingers against the scar, and as she ran her fingers down the length of textured skin a final time, she smiled faintly as she realized she no longer felt quite so alone.

XXXX

"You know you're welcome to come with me, Emma," Will told her for the hundredth time as he pulled up outside her condo. "And I'm happy to wait if you want to shower and change."

Late in the afternoon, Will had remembered that he had agreed to go to his parents' for dinner that evening, cutting their day together short. Will had insisted that it would be fine for Emma to come along, and he would introduce her to his parents in whichever way she felt most comfortable. But Emma was hesitant, knowing that she'd suffer through an evening of unwanted stares— she knew his parents would not be enthusiastic about him bringing home a new girlfriend after he was so recently divorced. Even if Will opted to introduce her as merely a friend, she was less than eager to meet his parents. It would be a trying evening, she was sure of it, and taking recent events into account, she wasn't sure if she could muster the strength to handle the evening in an appropriate manner.

"It's fine, Will—you go by yourself," she insisted. No matter how much she hated to leave him, she did not intend to cave to his request. "I promise I'll meet your parents another time—now is hardly the appropriate occasion, and I think it would be best if you at least announced your decision to bring me instead of just showing up."

He sighed. "If you're sure...I just feel bad, kicking you out so abruptly. I guess I could always call my parents and cancel—"

"No, no, no. Don't do that, Will," she pleaded, placing her hand gently against his arm as she turned in the passenger seat. "I'll be fine, Will. You've been wonderful, and you've done more for me than I could've asked. Please don't worry about me—I'll be fine."

"I know you'll be fine, Em," he sighed. "But that doesn't make me want to leave you any less. You know I want to be here for you, Emma."

"I know you do, Will," she replied, running her hand up the length of his arm, resting her hand atop his shoulder. "But I'm not the only person in your life, and right now, I want you to go enjoy your visit with your parents without worrying about me." She leaned in, pecking him softly on the cheek.

"You win," he sighed, reaching to cup her cheek gently as she pulled away from him. "But please, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

She bit her lip. His intentions were sincere, but she knew that she hardly wanted him to fuss over her this way. "Will, I'll be fine. I've been fine on my own for the past three years now," she reminded him.

"I know, I know," he defended himself immediately. "I just want to do all I can for you—try my best to make things better."

"Will, you have to stop this," she exasperated, letting the words fly from her lips without properly considering them. "I'm still Emma—the same Emma you've known for years. And I can only imagine what a shock this is to you, finding out about this past I've kept hidden for so long. But—but I don't want that to be the only thing you think about when you look at me—I don't want you to only see a girl who's been hurt. I don't want you to pity me. There's a lot more to me than what happened in the past, and I want you to look at me and see that—just Emma."

"No," he muttered, taking her hand gently in his own. "That's not what I want, either, and I'm sorry that I've been...over doing it. It is a shock to me—and it makes me angry to know that you had to suffer, Emma. It makes me angry that there's nothing I can do to reverse it. So I guess I'm trying in my own small way to make things right for you again. But I can't only focus on that, and I know for a while it will be hard to look at you and simply forget what you've told me, but I can promise you that I'll try not to treat you differently that before."

She smiled faintly, leaning in to press her lips softly against his. He stiffened for a moment beneath her touch, but instead of pulling away, he allowed his lips to work softly against hers. "Thanks, Will," she muttered after pulling away.

"Anything for you, Em," he breathed, his face still close to hers. "I'll see you soon."

After bidding him farewell, she slipped out of the car, standing on the steps of her condo for a moment before entering. She watched his car until it disappeared into the distance, a hopeful yet melancholy feeling settling in her chest.

* * *

_A/N: HERE IT IS! I think this is the longest I've ever made you wait for a chapter. Between relatives visiting last week and a long drive to the sweltering heat of Florida, I haven't had a lot of time to sit down at my computer and simply write. _

_Thanks so much for all your positive response. This story has now officially received the most reviews out of anything I have ever written! Each review seriously makes my day. So much :D_

_Thanks anonymous reviewers: Trac_y, _Honest Reviewer, marissaisgod, IHEARTWEMMA, and gleefan. _

_Also, thanks to emamae3. Since you have your PM feature disabled, I was unable to give you a proper thanks!  
_


	11. Chapter XI

_Chapter XI_

The dawn of morning brought a heavy fog, settling thickly in the cool morning air. Emma sat on the balcony, watching the stretching beams of sun fight to penetrate through the cloudy sky. The water of the complex swimming pool rippled in the gentle breeze. Like most mornings, the pool was vacant, just the way Emma preferred. Though she never used the pool herself, the shrieks and splashes from the neighboring families always left her feeling uneasy.

But as the hazy sun peaked over the horizon, Emma relished the still silence of the early morning. Her eyes, wide and tired, continued to stare aimlessly at the calm water. The exhaustion from her sleepless night hadn't quite hit her yet. Instead, a certain heaviness washed over her as the lapping pool water hypnotized her unblinking eyes.

Her night had been afflicted with gripping nightmares and unwanted images. She'd pull herself from her troubled slumber, trying to calm herself, only to drift off again to fall victim to another heinous dream. It was a cycle that she had suffered through more often than not, but with the raw memories now resurfaced, the dreams now plagued her with a sudden force.

Around four in the morning, she had given up. She made herself a cup of tea, taking it out to the balcony, staring out into the hazy darkness as she refused to succumb to another unwanted dream.

She had thought about calling Will.

Waking up in a cold sweat, longing to feel his arms around her, she had reached for her phone on the nightstand, paging through her contacts until she reached the person she wanted most. But her shaking fingers could not make the call, even though she could imagine Will would be all too willing to soothe her, even to the extent of driving out in the late hour to be with her when she needed him most.

She wanted that. It scared her how much she wanted just that. She had already given so much of herself to Will, exposing every one of her vulnerabilities. Clinging to him so desperately, no matter how comforting the idea seemed, would only put her in an inferior position, egging on the pity she so desperately wanted to evade. If she wanted to be treated as an equal, she needed to prove that she could act as one.

The remaining tea sloshing in the bottom of her cup was now cold, but she held the mug tightly nevertheless, her clutched fingers keeping her hands from shaking.

The sun continued to climb in the sky, pushing away the fog. She heard a splash as her elderly neighbor dove into the pool for a morning swim, breaking through her trance-like spell. The exhaustion hit her with a sudden force. One moment her eyes had been wide orbs; now, they sagged as she fought to keep them open.

She dragged her tired body through the sliding door, disposing of her cold tea and placing the mug neatly in the dishwasher. Before collapsing against her bed, she picked her phone up from the nightstand, glancing at the screen which still flashed Will's contact information.

Smiling faintly, she fell back against the pillows, her fingers still curled around her phone as exhaustion claimed her.

XXXX

The vibrating in her palm startled her, tugging her from her slumber as she pulled herself from the bed, feeling slightly disoriented.

Will's name flashed across the screen as she struggled to open it, fighting to push through her lethargic state.

"Hi, Will," she mumbled sleepily, her throat thick and dry.

"Hey, Em...did I wake you?" he sounded concerned, and she could imagine his eyebrows knitting together all too well.

"No, no, of course not." She cursed herself for not being able to sound more alert, for the hoarse way her voice stumbled over the words.

"Now you're lying to me," his tone was lighter, but still edged with guilt. "Go back to bed, Em, and I'll call a little later."

"No!" she shrieked, too loudly, too quickly. "I mean, now's fine. I was just taking a little nap. I was up early this morning."

"All right," he chuckled. She clutched the phone tighter to her ear. "How was your night?"

"Fine. It was fine," she told him, forcing the lie from between her lips. He didn't need to know. He didn't need to know how much she had wanted him. "How was, you know, dinner with your parents?"

He sighed, "It was like walking on egg shells, honestly. This is the first time I've gone over for dinner without Terri," he admitted, "and the atmosphere was a little strained. My father was tactful, but once my mother had a few glasses of wine in her, she was all too eager to make a few jabs at my failed marriage..."

"Oh, Will, I'm sorry," she muttered, unsure of the appropriate response in a situation like this. "Do you want to come over for a little bit?" she asked shyly, rubbing the hem of her nightgown between her fingers, trying to calculate how quickly she could get ready.

"Sure," Will responded, the smile evident in his voice. "I was hoping we could do something today." She could feel his smile grown larger, and she couldn't help to grin as well. "How about I come over in a hour—so you'll have some time to get ready and everything?"

"Thanks, Will," she murmured appreciatively. He knew her too well. "I'll see you soon."

Fifty-five minutes later, Emma was showered, made up, and smoothing her yellow sun dress as she opened the door for Will, his hair still wet from his shower, the clean scent of his aftershave wafting into the room as he entered.

"You look nice today," he told her, his eyes darting from her dress to her eyes.

"Thank you," she muttered, blushing slightly as she relished the genuine way he looked at her. "Would you, um, like to sit down for a bit?"

He joined her on the couch, leaving a fair distance between them. She tried to hide her frustration, knowing that she had no reason to be upset; he was only trying to respect her by giving her space, and as she closed the gap between them, snuggling up against his side, she realized that she was going to have to be the one to take charge, the one to let him know what was okay.

His arms easily slid around her waist as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. She breathed in the scent of aftershave, closing her eyes, letting him hold her.

"Is everything okay, Em?" he asked after a moment, never loosening his grasp.

"Mhmm," she muttered, her stomach twisting slightly. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know," he tried to brush it off, but she squirmed in his grasp, struggling to see his face. "You're just quiet."

"I guess I'm just a little tired," she admitted.

"Bad dreams again?" he mumbled. She stiffened for a moment, still growing accustomed to just how in tune her was to her. She found it comforting, yet unsettling at the same after spending so much time completely severing herself from human interaction.

"A little bit," she whispered, tucking her head back into his shoulder, taking in a deep breath of his scent to calm herself as the haunting images resurfaced.

"I wish I could've been there for you," he muttered, reaching to touch her hair gently.

She wished he could've been there too, but she took in a shuddering breath, pulling herself away from him. "I've been okay, for years now, handling it on my own..." she assured him.

"I know, I know," he told her, the promise he had made last night hanging between them. "But that doesn't mean you should have to continue to handle it on your own."

Her throat tightened. She had never imagined that opening up to Will would plague her with a whole new range of emotions, on top of the ones she already struggled to handle. "What, um, would you like to do today?"

He opened his mouth but then promptly shut it, tactfully dropping the topic. "Whatever you'd like to do, but I have a little something in mind if you're up to leaving the house."

"Another surprise?" she smiled, easily dropping the subject as well, though it still tugged subconsciously in the back of her mind.

"Exactly," he grinned. "So are you up for it?"

The idea of leaving her house, especially for an unknown destination, made Emma uneasy. But doing something away from the safe confines of her home, no matter how content it made her feel to stay, would be healthy for her—and even good for their relationship. Their relationship was already unconventional, and the strain her mental disorder put on it only made it more delicate. They needed to embrace any normalcy they could handle.

"What should I wear?" she asked him, glancing down at her attire.

"What you have on should be fine," Will assured her, rising from the couch. "Just wear a pair of shoes you'll be comfortable walking around in."

After finding a pair of doable flats, Emma grabbed a cardigan—just in case—and a purse, which she proceeded to pack and unpack three times, just to make sure she had everything she might need.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Em?" Will asked as Emma finally zippered her purse.

She nodded, swallowing the anticipation in her throat. "I'm sure. It's just, makes me a little edgy, not knowing where we're going—but don't tell me. I want to be surprised," she added quickly. Remembering the last surprise with Will sent a thrill up her spine, not matter how nerve wracking it was not to know. And she was determined to prove to Will, to herself, that she could handle this situation without a fuss.

He laced his fingers with hers, leading her out to his car. The fog was clearing, the hazy sun pushing through the cloudy sky as the cicadas hummed in the humid summer air.

Emma was glad to slip into the cool air conditioner of Will's car, escaping the heat that only made her sweat uncomfortably. As Will drove, the lull of the engine only fed her exhausted state as she leaned her head against the window, her eyelids drooping.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Em?" Will asked once again, rubbing her arm gently. "We can always go back to your place and snuggle on the couch and relax." She heard the smile in his voice as she pushed her heavy eyes open.

The idea was so tempting that Emma nearly surrendered. "No, no, really, Will, I think it's, um, good that I get out of the house…" she told him. She was tired of always giving into her weaknesses.

He placed both hands back on the wheel, the route unfamiliar as he continued to drive, causing Emma's curiosity to burn. As they pulled into the lot, Emma caught sight of the sign, her stomach dropping suddenly.

"The zoo?" she whispered, hardly trusting her voice, feeling sick as she thought about the animals and filth waiting past the entrance. This was _not _what she had been expecting at all, and she was already beginning to feel frustrated, realizing that she could be tucked in Will's arms in the safety of her home right about now.

"I thought it would be fun," Will told her, smiling at her hopefully as she tried to push away her disappointment.

"I haven't been to the zoo since I was about five." There was a reason for that.

Misinterpreting her response, Will's face lit up brightly. "I was hoping you hadn't gone in a while. I've been trying to come up with some fun activities for us—you know, rather than the cliché dinner and movie date scenario."

Her heart broke, realizing how utterly romantic he was being, and she wanted desperately to appreciate it. Will slipped out of the car, coming over to her side to open the door. She fumbled for her bag, prolonging the moment she'd had to leave the safety of the car.

As she stepped out the car, the overwhelming stench of animal filth already heavy in the air, her breath caught in her throat. She brought her hand to her chest, trying to control her sudden bout of anxiety.

"Em, is everything okay?" His voice sounded far away as her breathes began short and shallow.

"O-of cou-course," she stuttered, the words coming out in an airy rush. "I'm f-fine…"

The last syllable gave way into a strangled choke as she tried to hold in her unreasonable emotions. After a moment, her cheeks were wet with hot, streaming tears.

"Oh, Em," Will whispered, wrapping his arms around her quivering form.

"The smell," she tried to explain, her voice faint as she tucked her face into his shoulder.

"Shit," he muttered, causing her to stiffen in his grasp. "Em, I'm sorry… I wasn't thinking. It's silly, really, how hard I've been trying to come up with things for us to do—things to make you happy. Things to try to make this relationship special."

She cried harder, suddenly hating herself. She tucked her face into his neck, continuing to sob as he rocked her gently.

"Shh, baby," he soothed, the simple term of endearment causing Emma's heart to flutter. Her breaths became even as his arms locked firmly around her.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I feel awful, Will..."

"Don't apologize," he chastised, the words sounding worn as they left his mouth for the umpteenth time. "This is my fault. I didn't think through the details like I should have...and I feel terrible about that. This is about you, Em, and I really want to make this relationship special..."

She pulled her head away from him, catching his gaze with her swollen eyes. "No, Will...this isn't about me. It's about us—both of us. And you can't keep playing martyr. Being—being in a relationship is about compromise...and it has to stop being all about me and what makes me comfortable," she took a deep breath here, looking hesitantly toward the entrance of the zoo, the vile smell filling her nostrils once again. "So let's do this..."

"Em, don't be ridiculous," Will tried to reason with her, his eyes following hers as she continued to glance nervously at the entrance.

"No, Will," she said firmly, the frustration seeping into her voice as she fought to please him while still keeping the control she desperately wanted. "It's stupid, really, that I can't do...this. I'll—I'll just ignore the smell...other than that, I should, um, be okay. Because it's not like I have to touch anything. Or the animals. Just looking," she rambled, wringing her hands together as she attempted to rationalize the situation.

"Em, please, stop," he shushed her, bringing his finger lightly to her lips, stopping her mid-sentence. "I understand that we do need to compromise, and I do want to help you step out of your shell. But right now, I think it's best if we just go back to your place for the day. You're exhausted, and that's only making you more upset right now. Please don't feel bad...this is all just turning into a silly misunderstanding, and we need to forget about it for the time being."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before opening the passenger door for her, helping her back into the safety of the car.

"Thank you, Will," she muttered, as they drove back in the direction they came from. "For always putting up with me."

He smiled at her sadly, reaching to rub her arm softly. "You know I love you."

She smiled faintly, the words giving her a sense of worth. "We'll go to the zoo soon," she muttered the promise as she leant her head against the window, fighting exhaustion once again.

He chuckled softly. "We can certainly build toward that. Oh, and if you don't mind me prying." Here his voice took a more serious tone. "Did seeing a therapist end up working out for you?"

She stiffened for a moment, recalling the events from earlier this year. The events that had led up to the mess their relationship had suffered through. "Um, funny story, actually," she muttered bitterly. "I called, using the card you gave me, and you wouldn't believe who they sent." Will raised his eyebrows as he turned briefly to look at her. "Sue—apparently she has a degree in Psychology, and well, she's the reason I made a fool of the both of us in the faculty lounge..."

Will ran his fingers through his hair, glancing quickly at Emma before adverting his eyes back to the road. "That explains a lot...a heck of a lot." He pushed a stream of breath between his pursed lips. Emma imagined him replaying the entire scenario in mind with his newfound knowledge.

"I'm sorry," he finally muttered.

"No, no it wasn't your fault that Sue, you know, has to somehow mess up everyone's life...it was really sweet of you to care enough to give me that card, even if it, um, backfired like that..." she tried to assure him.

"So you ended up seeing anyone...after Sue, I mean?" he clarified.

She shook her head. "Everything just kind of went down hill after that, and it didn't, um, really seem worth the trouble..." she explained, remembering the loss of control she had experienced from all her unwanted emotions.

Will nodded understandingly. "Em, I don't mean to pry or anything, but have you ever seen a therapist? I mean, before...considering...everything..." he dared to ask, trailing off delicately at the end as he brushed the tender topic.

She stiffened, her heart stopping for a minute as the question caught her off guard. "I saw a therapist when I was little...after the dairy farm incident," she offered, though she knew that he was digging deeper than that. "It didn't really work out for me...she was a very proactive therapist, intent on finding methods to 'fix' me...but I took comfort in my, um, obsessive behaviors, and trying to break me away from them made me even more of a mess, so I stopped seeing her all together." She waited for a moment, letting the words settle between them. He didn't speak, allowing her to hesitantly continue. "No, I never did see anyone...after I left Virginia. By the time I was settled here, I was ready to move forward, instead of opening up old wounds...I couldn't imagine ever telling anyone. Sometimes I wonder how I even managed to tell you..." her voice broke as she softly trailed off.

The silence hung heavily in the car around them. Emma heard Will swallow, and she pushed back the lump in her own throat. She was grateful when they pulled up in front of her condo, then tension easing as Will helped her from the car.

Her eyes continued to droop as they entered, the fresh scent of Clorox wipes and French vanilla from her air freshener immediately soothing her.

She stumbled a little as she took off her shoes, placing them by the mat near the door.

"Gosh, Em, how much sleep did you get last night?" Will asked, reaching for her elbow to steady her.

Her eyes burned a little as she fought to keep them open, her energy draining quickly. Emma never did well with such little sleep, and paired with her near-breakdown from earlier, she was about ready to fall apart.

As he led her down the hall to her room, she mustered the energy to protest. "I'm fine, Will." She stifled a yawn as he pushed open the door to her bedroom.

"Emma, please. You're exhausted...and if you're worried about cutting our day together short, I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be here when you wake up."

She smiled faintly, relaxing as she sat down on the edge of her pale green comforter. He reached for the afghan at the bottom of the bed.

"I can't sleep in my clothes," Emma whined, another yawn lacing her words as Will draped the afghan around her shoulders. She was certain she saw him role his eyes, but her tired eyes were in no state to focus.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" he joked, brushing his lips softly against her hair. The simple touch pulled her slightly from her exhaustion, putting all her senses on alert.

She stepped into her walk-in closet a moment later. A blush crept to her cheeks as she fingered the pale lavender nightdress, the only fresh nightgown in sight. She shed her clothes, replacing the sun dress on its designated hanger, too tired to fully care as she pulled the lavender nightie over her slender form.

Will chuckled slightly upon seeing her apparel. "That looks familiar."

"Oh, shush," she sighed, crawling onto the bed. "It's the only clean one I have right now."

"I think it looks beautiful on you," he assured her, glancing at the flimsy purple material. Emma blushed deeper as she felt his eyes rest on her.

She fell back against the pillows, smiling as Will pulled the afghan over her body. "I feel like I'm three, and it's nap time," she muttered, tugging the blanket up to her chin.

Will laughed again, pressing his lips against her forehead. "Pleasant dreams, Princess," her joked softly.

"Does my prince want to join me?" she played along, shyly, looking at the vast space beside her on her queen sized bed.

"Someone needs to chase your bad dreams away," he whispered, his mouth against her ear as he slipped onto bed beside her.

His hands worked softly at her hair, the touch managing to relax her yet electrify her senses simultaneously. She sighed, turning so she could face him.

"I thought you were asleep," he murmured as she moved her body.

"Not quite yet," she replied, wriggling her body to her face ended up only inches from his.

She felt her breath ricochet off his face as she breath deeply, her eyes locking with his. Slowly, she reached to touch his face, his smooth, clean-shaven face feeling softly beneath her fingers.

He lay perfectly still as her fingers explored the contours of his face, dipping down as far as his neck as she felt the wiry hair from his chest poking out from his v-neck shirt. Her hands felt shaky and inexperienced as she initiated the touching, feeling unsure as she explored her desires in a way she had always blocked before.

But as she found his face once again, a need for him pulsed through her as she leant over, brushing her own lips softly against his.

He was caught off guard but soon melted into the kiss, bringing his hand gently up behind her head. He heart rate soured, causing a thrill of panic to sweep through her body, but she pushed her heightened fear away, instead focusing on the inexplicable pleasure she felt from merely touching him. She pressed her body closer to his, the heat from his own form radiating through the thin material of her nightgown.

"Oh, God, Em," he groaned as she dared to push her tongue through his lips, gasping slightly as her body begged for more.

He pulled away a moment later, leaving her muddled and gasping for breath. "Will," she breathed heavily, reaching for him once again. "You don't have to stop..."

"Em, please, as much as I'm enjoying this, I don't want to push too much too quickly—and you really do need to get some sleep."

She scowled, pouting for a moment. As much as she wanted to continue kissing him, her exhaustion was getting the best of her. "Only if you kiss me again when I wake up..." she bartered weakly.

"I think I can agree to that," he chuckled lightly, placing a chaste kiss to her swollen lips.

Smiling contently, she snuggled close to him, finally allowing herself to drift.

XXXX

When she woke, her eyelids fluttering open, she found Will awake beside her, his eyes resting on her.

"How long did I sleep?" she muttered, stretching her tight muscles as she fully emerged from her slumber.

"Almost two hours," Will told her, tucking a stray strand of hair securely behind her ear.

She let out a moan. "I'm sorry, Will." She wondered if he had slept at all himself.

"Don't apologize. I'm more than happy you slept for so long—in fact, I'm certain you probably needed to sleep even more," he told her, not protesting as she aligned her body against his once again.

"So how about that kiss?" she muttered into his neck, lifting her eyes hopefully as she uttered the words.

Will chucked as he lifted her chin, placing a soft kiss against her lips. "I swear, Emma, this was not at all how I was expecting you to react to all of this..."

She blushed a little. "I want you, Will...how hard is that for understand?"

"I can understand that," he told her, watching as she once again became fascinated by the area of his exposed chest. "But before you...told me, you seemed much more hesitant and sensitive, which is why I'm afraid to push you over the edge again..."

"It was harder," she tried to explain, her fingers continuing to dance across his curly chest hair, "before you knew. Because the truth was practically eating away at me from the inside...and I was scared, being so alone. But it's easier now that you know, that I don't have to hide anymore...it makes it easier to sort through what I'm really feeling for you—instead of the lie I had been living for so long."

He stroked her face softly, not speaking for a moment. "You don't know how much it means to me, Em, being able to be the one to help you through all of this. And there's so much I want to explore in this relationship—things you're getting ready to explore as well, but no matter how ready you feel, we're still going to have to take things slowly and carefully...I never want to hurt you again."

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes from the sincerity of his words. "I love you, Will," she managed to choke out. She loved him so, so much.

He held her close to him, his strong arms holding them both together.

"I'm so glad I have you, Will..." she muttered, relishing this perfect moment together.

"You know I'll always be here for you," he promised, pulling away for a moment to catch her gaze, sealing his promise with his eyes.

"I was afraid...at first...that you'd be angry at me for lying to you," she admitted, her hands running softly against the material of his shirt.

"Oh, Em," his voice broke on the simple phrase. "Never. I'm only upset there wasn't something I could do sooner...it makes my heart break to think of all you had to suffer through."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, the feeling of someone caring so selflessly about her still hard for her to grasp.

"I just wish I didn't have to be so broken for you," she whispered, wanting nothing more than to give all of herself to Will. But all she had left were poorly mended pieces, waiting to fall apart at any moment.

"I love you just the way you are, Emma," he assured her.

The words hung around them, pushing through the tension, the unbreakable heaviness.

"Em, do you—never mind," he quickly cut himself off, turning his face away instead.

"No, what is it, Will?" she urged, suddenly curious as to what he was holding back.

"It's nothing, Em," he tried to assure her. "I don't want to bring up a sore topic..."

"Will, please," she practically begged him. "I want you to be able to talk about things with me...even if it's," she swallowed, clearing her throat, "hard for me to talk about."

"Really, Em," he sighed, "I didn't want to bring this up...there's no use in opening old wounds."

She frowned, wishing she could assure him that his words would not hurt her. Opening old wounds was painful, but re-mending them more adequately was healing. His unspoken words hung between them as his eyes darted from hers nervously.

"It's about the, um, about the baby isn't it?" she whispered hesitantly. She had known this would eventually come up—she had seen the way his eyes had shared her anguish when she had brushed upon the topic only days before.

He looked surprised, at first, that she had picked up on his uncertainty so easily. He nodded slowly, looking more vulnerable than she has ever seen him.

She wrapped her arms around him, lowing her head gently to her chest, the role reversal bringing her a strange sense of comfort as she held him for a change.

"Do you ever miss her?" Will voice was so faint that Emma could hardly make out the words.

She swallowed heavily before answering.

"I used to think about Olivia a lot, after I came here," she admitted, her voice thin and shaky. "I think she helped me heal, having her so close to me after I lost my own baby...but it's hard to really tell, you know, if I missed something that I never really had...something that was always so intangible."

Will nodded slowly, understandingly, and Emma's stomach twisted as she watched him suffer.

"I'm sorry, Will."

"Don't be sorry...it's silly for me to feel this way...to even compare what I lost to what you lost. It's messed up, how hurt I am over something that never even existed..." he broke off, and Emma placed a reassuring kiss atop his curls.

"She was just as real as my baby, Will," Emma told him, a firm tone in her voice. "She was real to you...maybe even more real because you wanted her so much."

"Oh, Emma," he whispered softy, his curls still resting beneath her chin. "I know it's terrible, but knowing what happened to you, it makes me feel a little less alone..."

Emma smiled, tightening her grip around him. They clung to each other, holding onto what they still had, measuring their losses and gains.

* * *

_A/N: It's been forever, I know. And I don't really have a real excuse except for that all I've neglected to do this summer finally caught up with me. Hopefully this fluffy chapter was worth the wait ;)_

_Thanks to xSleeplessXNightsx for putting up with all my whining as I wrote this chapter ;)  
_

_To agtstarbuck, the zoo trip was for you, but unfortunately Emma just didn't want to cooperate. Boo. Maybe later ;)_

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: marissaisgod, lodvg, Honest Reviewer, The Duchessina, Alyssa, and IHEARTWEMMA  
_


	12. Chapter XII

_Chapter XII_

"You can open your eyes now," he told her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

She allowed her eyes to flutter open, gasping slightly as she took in the scene before her.

Both she and Will stood on the balcony at his apartment, the cool summer evening settling softly around them. On the porch, Will had arranged a candlelit dinner for two, so perfect that it could've been taken straight out of a romantic movie.

On a bench near the end of the balcony, Will had set up his iPod and speakers. As he reached for the music player, Frank Sinatra's deep tenor filled the background.

Emma giggled, turning to smile widely at Will. "This is perfect."

Will smiled in return, taking her gently in his arms as they began to sway to the music. "Not as perfect as you."

She giggled again. Though often a corny romantic, his unfailing sweetness never failed to make her smile. She tucked her head beneath his neck as they continued to dance slowly. "So what do I owe this wonderful surprise to? I didn't think today was a special occasion..."

"Since when do I need a special occasion to serenade you?" he joked, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke softly. A tingle shot up her spine. No matter how accustomed she grew to his touch, it never failed to electrify her. "But really, we've been dating for about a month now, and though I don't want to treat this like a petty high school relationship by making a huge deal out of each milestone, I thought it will still be nice to do something a little special."

She smiled into his neck. "It's perfect," she assured him again.

They swayed for a moment longer until Emma felt Will's stomach grumble against hers. "What's for dinner?" she asked, grinning once again.

"Pasta with pesto," he told her, leading her to the candlelit table.

She smiled. It was a filling dish without including meat or dairy, which usually repulsed Emma in most meals. They ate in silence for a moment, Will quickly filling his ravenous stomach while Emma daintily picked at her own.

"Thank you, Will," she said softly, watching him in the dim glow of the candlelit.

"No thank you," Will told her, taking another helping of pasta as Emma still continued to work on her first.

"For what?" she muttered, chewing thoughtfully.

"For letting me be such a big part of your life," he told her. "This past month has been wonderful...I haven't felt this good in a long, long time."

"It's been great for me to," she told him, taking a small sip of wine. "You've made being in a relationship more enjoyable...and comfortable, than I ever could've imagined."

He smiled at her, reaching into his pocket to produce a small jewelry case. Her heart accelerated for a moment, her mind flashing where she had only gone in her wildest fantasies—fantasies she wasn't even sure she wanted to make a reality.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, watching as her eyes widened in panic and surprise. "This is nothing significant." He winked at her.

She relaxed, allowing herself to chuckle faintly as he handed the box to her. She carefully opened it, revealing a dragonfly pin resting inside. The wings were embedded with tiny multicolored crystals that glowed in the faint shimmer of the candle flame.

"Oh, Will," she muttered, smiling at the quirky pin. It was perfect. So perfect, that she found herself growing flustered from his unfailing generosity. "You shouldn't have...and if this is technically our one month anniversary, it isn't fair, because I didn't get you anything..."

"Don't worry about it, Em," he assured her with a chuckle. "And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't spend any money on it. It was my grandmother's...Terri has most of her jewelry now, but this was one of the pieces I still had...and I thought of you immediately when I saw it."

She smiled, fingering the tiny gems. "I love it," she assured him. "I love it, really, I do."

She closed the box, tucking it gently into her mauve purse that matched her musky purple dress.

After cleaning up the dishes—a task Emma refused to let wait—Will led her back to the balcony. The music continued to play softly as Will took her back in his arms.

"I love you," she whispered. The words never felt old or overused when they left her lips.

He bent over to press his lips softly to hers. He was no longer as hesitant and careful, finally initiating the kisses Emma craved. She tasted the spearmint flavor from the mint she always insisted they use after eating, lacing with his own unique taste she could never properly describe.

The music was soon forgotten as Will molded his mouth against hers, bringing his hand back behind her her head as he tangled his fingers through her hair. A sigh escaped her mouth as she parted her lips, a thrill of panic pulsing through her as his tongue slipped in. She suppressed her panic, instead focusing on the intense pleasure his touch shot through her body. Her knees trembled slightly as he deepened the kiss.

"You okay, Em?" Will asked, breaking his lips apart from hers as she continued to shake.

"Yeah, I-I'm f-f-fine," she tried to assure him, her teeth clanging together as she continued to shake.

"Take a deep breath, Em," he tried to calm her, leading her into the living room to sit her down on the couch.

"I'm f-fine," she tried again, fighting to arrange herself in his lap.

"You're shaking like a leaf, Emma," Will told her, beginning to rub hesitant circles around her back.

"It's okay, W-will," she muttered, pressing her lips against his neck. "It's just lot, feeling this kind of emotion...but I like it," she insisted, trailing her lips up to the edge of his lips. "I like it a lot."

He cupped her face gently, bringing his lips back down on hers. Another trembling spasm shot through Emma's body. He retreated once again. "Are you sure, Em?"

Tears of frustration brimmed in her eyes. A faint sob escaped her lips as she fought to keep her composure. "I want this, Will...I want it so much."

"I know you do, baby, but we don't have to push it, okay?" he soothed, placing a kiss on her wet cheek as her tears spilled over.

"Can we just try...a little bit more?" she pleaded, wiping away her tears furiously. She arranged herself in his lap, the skirt of her dress bunching up around her thighs as pressed herself against him.

He bit back an argument, dropping the futile topic as Emma brought her lips to his once again. She pushed through another bout of trembling, keeping her body steady as Will's lips trailed across her jaw, burning against her skin.

She shifted in his lap, her dress hiking further up her thighs. Hesitantly, she reached for his hand, placing it deliberately against the bare skin of her leg.

"Emma," he moaned, and she felt him harden beneath her, a wave of panic shooting through her. She composed herself, allowing herself to feel his body against hers. He trailed his hand against the smooth skin of her thigh, stroking her rhythmically as he brought his lips back to hers.

"I want this," she found herself fervently whispering against him,squirming so that her dress rode up even higher, exposing her delicate lace panties.

Will broke away from her, his eyes darting to her to exposed lower region. Emma followed his gaze, looking shyly at her own body as she tried to imagine it from Will's perspective. His hand rested softly on her thigh as he hesitantly caught her gaze, his face flushing deeply.

"It's okay, Will," she muttered, the words almost catching in her throat. She rested her hand on top of his for a moment, letting her eyes lock with his as she pulled it away. He brought his fingers delicately up her leg, tracing the hem of her panties gently.

She quivered, clenching her fists together as he touched her softly. She felt slightly sick as he continued to explore, fighting to keep herself in the present. This was Will; her sweet, compassionate Will who loved her. It was okay for him to touch her—it was okay that she wanted him to touch her.

She held her breath, battling as Will's fingers skimmed across her skin, her nails practically puncturing the skin of her palms. Her body began to shake violently, Will's hand leaving her body faster than she could comprehend.

"I'm sorry, Will," she choked out the words, desperately fighting tears. She did not wish to cry again.

"No, Em, don't apologize," he soothed, pulling her dress down past her thighs before pulling her into his lap. "There's nothing for you to apologize for...I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"You need to stop, Will," she sobbed into his neck. "This isn't your fault. It's my fault. All my _fucking _fault..."

His eyes widened as the vile word slipped from between her lips. She bit her tongue, her anger and frustration boiling in her core. Her sobs only grew louder. "T-t-tonight was s-s-s-o p-perfect. And I r-ruined everything."

"Emma, baby, you need to stop this. This isn't your fault...there's nothing for either of us to feel guilty about," Will muttered, working his fingers through her hair. "How can I make you stop feeling this guilt?"

She breathed hotly into his neck, gulping in breaths as she calmed herself. "Can we try again?" she whispered, desperate to prove to herself that all the improvement she had made in last month had not been in vain.

"Emma," he sighed, fighting to reason with her.

"Will," she trilled, her voice rising with frustration as she suppressed another onslaught of tears. "I want this. I want—I want to have sex with you."

The words were blunt, sounding strange as they fell from her lips. Will pursed his lips as he answered. "Emma, even if we were both...in the right frame of mind, I wouldn't want us to do this tonight. I don't want our first time to be on a whim...I want it to be because it's the right time, because it's what we both really want."

"But what if I want it now?" she whispered, almost frantically. Her hands twisted around the collar of his shirt; she refused to look at him as she said the words.

"Emma, honey," Will reasoned with her, lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye. "There's no need to rush. You know you don't have to prove anything to me, right?"

"Of course," she told him, her eyes darting away from his face once again. "I know that."

"You don't have to prove anything to yourself, either," he sighed, watching as she squirmed uncomfortably. "Emma, listen to me. Nothing you're doing is wrong...getting scared, feeling unsure...it's normal. I want you to know that."

"But I'm not scared, Will," she pleaded with him, another wave of panic overcoming her. "I'm not scared of you at all."

"Baby, I didn't say that," he told her gently, pulling her securely against his chest. "You were wonderful tonight, and you don't have to feel guilty or upset about anything. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

She nodded into his neck, though her throat still felt tight as she relaxed against him.

"Do you want me to take you home or would you rather stay here tonight?" he asked her after a moment.

Their relationship was entirely unorthodox in every facet. Emma ended up staying with Will most nights, sharing a bed in only the purest sense. She slept better tucked in his arms, and her nightmares became less frequent. And on the nights she was plagued by bad dreams, having Will to pull her gently from them proved to be much easier than trying in vain to do it on her own.

Will had even suggested that Emma could move in with him, but Emma had declined, having a mental block against the whole concept. No matter how safe and comfortable she felt in Will's apartment, she always wanted the option to have her own place to call her own. She had become a fiercely independent woman upon moving to Lima, and though she craved Will's comfort more than anything, she could not come to terms with giving up the controlled, stable environment she had created for herself.

"Stay here," she muttered. She knew her guilt would only be harder to bear if she fell victim to loneliness.

"I'll go change the bed while you shower, okay?" Will told her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

She fought to curve her lips into a smile, thanking him dutifully. It wasn't until she was in the scalding stream of water that she allowed herself to cry once again.

XXXX

"No, Will, that can't go there...it needs to be in alphabetical order..." Emma sighed, glancing at the pile of books stacked on her office floor that still need to be shelved.

"Emma, if we put it in order, we're going to have to rearrange this whole shelf," Will sighed, glancing at the titles of the perfectly aligned books.

Emma bit her lip in frustration, her eyes darting from the book to the already organized shelf. "I suppose...it could go on the next row down."

Will rubbed her arm reassuring as she placed the book at the beginning of the next row, her face twisting into a frustrated expression. As he continued to rub her arm, she willed herself to take in a few deep breaths.

She reached for the next book, placing it beside the previous one. Will smiled, encouraging her. Over the past few months, he had brought up the idea of therapy numerous times. But she insisted that she was fine handling it on her own, and simply having Will by her side made her days easier to handle.

He couldn't argue with her, especially when she was showing improvement. She was more willing to rationalize and compromise when dealing with a messy situation rather than letting her anxiety get the best of her. She was getting more confident in herself as they dared to explore their physical relationship, not breaking down and spiraling into a endless loops of guilt as they continued to work through the obstacles. When she made a mistake, she allowed Will to reason with her, relinquishing her need for utter perfectionism.

She was slowly progressing without the help of therapy, and she relished the control she had found even though her world was gradually changing.

"It looks nice there, on that shelf instead," she dared to say, looking thoughtfully at the shelf.

"That's the way to look at it," Will congratulated her, pecking her cheek as he handed her the next book in the sequence. She smiled, beaming proudly as she took in Will's praise and her own pride for her accomplishment.

Her progression could easily be viewed as infantile, but Emma was so adverse to change that she welcomed these small improvements she could handle with an open mind.

"I can't believe school starts in a week," Emma mumbled as she filled the next shelf, motioning for Will to hand her the stack to start filling the next one.

"This summer did fly by," Will agreed. Will had insisted on helping Emma organize her office this year. She had been hesitant at first, considering her anal tendencies, but his relaxing presence was making the task surprisingly bearable.

As they shelved the last of the books, Emma glanced around the office. A stack of papers, which needed to be filed, rested menacingly on her desk. She sighed, reaching for the pile.

"Em, it's almost four...maybe we should be done for today," Will hesitantly suggested.

She sucked in a breath, a wave of anxiety gripping her chest as she thought about leaving the papers overnight. She wrung her hands nervously, fighting to be reasonable.

"Relax, Em," Will whispered, coming up behind her to gently message her shoulders. His soothing touch soon had her mind muddled.

"Mhmm, Will, that feels so good," she muttered, closing her eyes as his hands strayed to her neck, sweeping her hair away from her skin.

She felt herself loosen considerably as he continued to work at her tense muscles. After a moment, she felt his lips press against her neck, causing a moan to escape her lips.

She turned in his grasp, twisting her arms around his neck so she could bring her lips to his. The force of her passion caused him to stumble backwards as she pushed him up against the glass wall of her office.

"I thought you weren't an advocate of PDA in schools?" Will chuckled, reminding her of the pamphlets—most of which Will had mocked—they had organized earlier in the morning.

"Oh, hush," she whined, hitching her right leg around him. "This doesn't count. School hasn't technically started yet"

He didn't answer as her lips bore down on his. The very taste of him intoxicated her; her worries about her unorganized papers now seemed trivial as she focused all of her energy on his physical touch. He had opened a whole new world for her, and she became more and more confident with herself as he offered her more patience than she was willing to give herself. She woke up each day, feeling blissful and hopeful rather than melancholy and disheartened.

There would be no more pining for him, no more of the disappointment she felt from chasing after an unobtainable man. He was hers now, so fully and utterly hers that the magnitude of the realization was almost mind boggling.

"I love you, Will," she said suddenly, the words almost unintelligible as she said them against his lips.

"I love you too, baby," he whispered back, tucking her hair behind her ear as he caught her gaze, smiling broadly.

"It's going to be different this year, you know, with us as an official couple," she told him, smiling at just the mere thought of having him by her side each day.

"We're going to have to be careful, considering your walls," he joked, kissing the tip of her nose lightly, glancing at the glass that surrounded them.

"Honestly, Will, we're going to have to end up eating lunch in your classroom everyday so we don't embarrass ourselves in front of the staff..." she joined the joke, lifting her neck as he brought his lips back to her skin once again.

"Embarrass ourselves?" he asked innocently, his breath spilling hotly against her neck.

"With the messy way you eat, _someone's _going to have to help you clean up," she smiled, her cheek brushing against his curls.

"I have Ms. Carlisle for that," he laughed, earning a scowl from Emma. "But seriously, how do you plan to help me 'clean up?'" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well," she grinned. "If you got some peanut butter on your upper lip, I might have to do this." She skimmed her tongue delicately across the corner of his mouth. "Or even this," she whispered, shoving her tongue between his lips.

It took him a moment to answer as he groaned against her, his mouth working passionately against hers. "I'm already trying to think of the messiest foods I can eat."

Emma wrinkled her nose slightly, but she smiled as she pulled away, keeping her arms locked around his neck. "I can't wait."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry again for the wait. I keep getting distracted by one shot ideas :P _

_A half angsty, half fluffy transition chapter for you here, before things start to get dicey...but I won't say anymore!_

_Thanks so much for sticking with me so long! And seriously, over 300 reviews? You guys rock  
_

_And as always, thanks to my anonymous reviewers: Karen, Alyssa, Honest Reviewer, IHEARTWEMMA, and lodvg,  
_


	13. Chapter XIII

_A/N: Just a little warning. This chapter isn't what I would consider M, but its certainly iffy...just giving you a heads up_

_

* * *

_

_Chapter XIII_

"Em, don't do this. Please talk to me," Will pleaded.

She heard the car door slam as the heels of her Mary Janes clicked fiercely against the pavement. The chilly October air wrapped around her as she tugged her green cardigan coat tighter around her body. She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, wrapping her arms around herself as a rush of air escaped her lips.

She heard the loud clomp of his uneven gait, hurrying to reach her, though she refused to turn, burying her face into the silky material of her scarf.

"Emma," he tried again, his warm breath beating against her neck as he wrapped his arms around her.

She wriggled free from his grasp, catching his gaze for a moment, looking hurt as she folded her across her chest.

"Em, I'm sorry," he sighed, a stream of breath leaving his pursed lips.

She pressed her arms closer against her chest, looking at the yellow toes of her Mary Janes as she muttered, "Everyone hates me."

"Em, what are you even talking about? Just because dinner with my parents didn't go as smoothly as either of us wanted doesn't mean they hate you..." Will desperately tried to reason with her.

"Your mother hates me," Emma stated flatly, trying to control the heaviness settling in her throat. "A-alex's mother hated me too..."

She saw his eyes widen visibly at the mention of Alex's name. She hardly brought him up in conversation, and much less to compare any aspect of her previous relationship to her current one.

"Em, she doesn't hate you...that's just the way she is...please don't take it personally," Will tried to explain. Her stomach twisted with a sense of déjà vu, her hands curling around her scarf as she pushed away a conversation she didn't wish to remember.

"But she liked Terri," Emma dared to whisper, wincing a little as she remembered the drunken comments his mother hadn't kept reined in.

"Terri was a part of their lives—_our_ lives for a long time, Emma," Will gently explained, Emma still refusing to look at him as her stomach knotted. When she said nothing, Will continued, "Terri had been through a lot by the time she met me...her mother suffered from severe depression, but she refused to get proper help for her condition, and Terri's father loved her too much to push her." He took a deep breath, looking at his hands as he spoke the words. "She committed suicide when Terri was thirteen."

Emma's breath caught, tasting the chilly air as she processed the words. She felt her throat contract as Will continued. "Terri never really talked about it much with me, not when we were younger or even later on when we got married. But she did form an unlikely bond with my mother."

"Terri and your mother?" Emma could not stop the words from spilling from her mouth. The only thing she could find in common with the two was their obvious distaste for her.

"Terri needed a mother...and my mother had always wanted a daughter," Will explained, taking Emma's hand in his own. "Its just been hard, ever since the divorce...my mother's still in denial, which was obvious from tonight..." he trailed off, and Emma fought to forget the disastrous evening. "And my father..."

When he didn't continue, Emma spoke hesitantly, "He wasn't as bad as your mother, though I felt like he was watching me—judging me—the entire time..."

"He's just disappointed," Will tried to explain, running his fingers through his hair. "His marriage has been anything but easy, especially regarding my mother's...problem. But he's stuck it out with her, all these years, and though he won't talk to me about, I know he thinks I'm a coward for ending it with Terri..."

Emma felt ill as stared at her feet, comprehending the information Will had told her. His parent's obvious bitterness toward her was now understandable, but it hardly made her feel any better. She was now the villain, stealing Will away from a broken woman—a woman who had suffered more than Emma had ever imagined. "I'm sorry, Will," she whispered, her hot tears burning her cheeks.

"No, Em, you don't need to apologize...this isn't you're fault at all, and I'm so sorry you had to be dragged into the middle of this..." he muttered, catching her gaze.

"I feel bad..." she murmured, burying her wet face in Will's shoulder. She kept her face pressed against his chest, clinging to him. Her view of the selfish woman suddenly changed as she thought of what she had suffered through.

He wrapped his arms around her form, the warmth of his body contrasting with chilly evening. "You have nothing to feel bad about, Emma. My parents are holding onto the past—and just because they have valid reasons to be upset doesn't mean they're right. Terri and I loved each other—and I was there for her in a time she truly needed me in her life. I'm the last person who will deny any of that, Emma," he stated. She kept her face tucked into his neck as he continued to speak. "But what we had wasn't meant to last. We never wanted the same things, and that only got harder to work through the longer we tried to pretend we did. Emma, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, Emma, more than I ever loved Terri. I want you to know that."

She choked back a sob ineffectively, burying her face deeper into his shoulder.

"Emma, baby, why are you crying?" he whispered, pull away so he could tilt her face toward his.

"I don't know," she muttered thickly, swallowing her tears.

"Emma, honey, please don't feel bad..." he pleaded with her, beginning to stroke her hair.

She nodded, but as she buried her face into his shoulder once again, holding onto his reassurance of his love for her, but unable to stop thinking of Terri with a pang of guilt in her heart.

XXXX

"And I was thinking maybe we could go downtown for dinner tonight, if that would be—Will are you even listening to me?" Emma sighed, popping a grape into her mouth as she sat on the edge of Will's desk.

He jerked his head toward her, his tired eyes meeting hers. "Sorry," he apologized, blinking a few times.

"Is everything alright, sweetheart?" Emma asked softly, abandoning her grapes as she walked over to Will's side, beginning to massage his shoulders.

"I'm just tired," he admitted. "I sleep better when you stay over," he admitted sheepishly.

With the school year in full swing, the couple had been much busier. Their nights spend together were becoming few and far between.

"Is that all?" she wriggled her body so she was sitting in his lap. He smiled, weakly, as he buried his face against her neck.

"Well, preparing my seniors for the SAT subject test is stressful," he told her, his hot breath ricocheting off her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing her lips gently against his curls. "And Rachel's been out sick this week, and the rest of the club is train wreck without her...I swear she's the only one who can get them to focus...I just need a break," he sighed.

"Why don't you come over my place tonight?" Emma offered, brushing her lips against his ear as she spoke. "Just a relaxing evening for the both of us..."

She felt his lips curve into a smile. "Sounds perfect..."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. Will sighed, closing his eyes as he snaked his arms around her waist. "I wish you didn't have to go..."

"Just a few more hours," she encouraged him, bending over to press her lips against his.

They broke apart as the door clicked open, Will's seventh period class filing through the door. Emma gave him an encouraging smile as she packed up her things, already thinking about the night ahead.

XXXX

"Mhmm, Em, it smells great in here," Will told her as he stepped over the threshold, removing his shoes before following her into the kitchen.

Emma opened the oven, pulling out a tray of homemade vegetable lasagna. She set it on the stove top to cool, disposing of her oven mitts as she approached Will.

"I miss all the time we got to spend together during the summer," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He leant in to kiss her lightly. "Me too."

His stomach rumbled, causing Emma to reluctantly pull away to retrieve the lasagna. She brought it to the tediously set table, pouring them each a glass of wine before sitting down.

"This is really nice, Em," Will told her, digging into the meal. "And you look great."

Emma blushed. "You're much too flattering...I didn't even have a chance to change out of my school clothes."

He smiled. "Well, I still think you're gorgeous."

She grinned in spite of herself, taking a bite of her own lasagna .

Once they finished eating and the kitchen was restored to it's immaculate condition, they ended up on the couch, the plastic covering squeaking beneath them as they arranged themselves.

Emma sighed, blushing as she glanced at Will. "Sorry. It's much more romantic at your place."

"Don't worry about it," he chuckled, reaching to cup her face gently. She pulled herself into his lap, kissing him deeply. He moaned against her, pressing his hand against the small of her back.

She continued to work her lips against his, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Do you want to spend the night?" she asked breathily, pulling her swollen lips away from his.

"Of course," he told her, brushing a flyaway hair behind her ear. "Do you want to watch a movie? It's not that late yet."

"No, Will," she muttered, sucking in a breath. "I want you to spend the night..._really_ spend the night." She blushed heavily, but she kept her gaze firmly locked with his.

"Emma..." Will warily drew out her name, glancing at her with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Will, don't look at me like that...I've made so much progress in these last few months. I've been working so hard. I want to do this—for you," she pleaded with him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Em, I don't want you doing anything for me," he mumbled, catching her gaze once again.

"Fine, for me then," she almost whined, feeling impatient as Will deterred her advances. "For us, Will. I'm ready to do this for us."

"Emma, baby—" he started, but she promptly cut him off.

"Will, can't we at least try?" she sighed.

He sucked in a breath, brushing her hair away from her. "Honey, if you're sure that's you want..."

"I want this more than anything, Will," she told him firmly. "I love you."

She felt surreal, and slightly vulnerable, as he allowed her to lead him down the hall to her bedroom. He sat opposite her on the pale green comforter, unmoving as Emma reached out to touch his face, her heart pounding as she leveled her gaze with his. Slowly, but with without hesitation, she leaned toward him, brushing her lips lightly against his. He tasted sweet, the remnants of the wine from dinner in her own breath mixing with his. He soon kissed her back, allowing his fingers to twist through her hair, his lips molding against hers. She pulled away, only for a moment as she caught her breath, situating herself so she was straddled on his lap, kissing him much more deeply in her close proximity.

"Em." Will pulled away, slipping out from beneath her lap, leaving her trembling slightly as she sat against the comforter. "Em, let's talk about this..."

"What's there to talk about, Will?" she practically whined, frustrated that he wasn't complying. She was sick of his hesitation, sick of him treating her as though she were as fragile as glass. "I want you, Will. I've thought about this for a long time, and I know I'm ready."

He was silent as he gazed at her through the veil of darkness; she knew he was chewing on her words, trying to formulate a convincing argument against her, protecting her from something she didn't want to be protected against anymore.

He sighed heavily, blowing a steady stream of air from his lips, glancing at her warily. She pushed through any regrets, any hesitation that remained as she began to undo the buttons of her blouse. Her trembling fingers completed the task faster than she had anticipated, letting the blouse fall from her shoulders before Will had a chance to comprehend her actions.

She felt his eyes on her, watching his mouth fall open slightly as he couldn't help but to gaze at her body. She felt her cheeks color hotly, glad she had the darkness to conceal her vulnerability. Will's mouth moved again, but he could not utter a word, his eyes unable to contain his awe. Emma felt a surge of pride rush through her, delighting in the way Will looked at her body.

She reached slowly up her back, the hinge of her bra suddenly feeling foreign beneath her anxious fingers. Unclasping the metal hook, she let her the material fall from her chest.

Will's sharp intake of breath startled her at first, and her blush only deepened as she watched him through the darkness, having to turn her face away as his eyes gazed upon her nakedness.

"Emma," he whispered, hardly able to push the words from his lips, his voice thick with emotion.

"I want you to touch me, Will," she told him, her voice as faint as a wisp as it carried softly through the air. She lifted her eyes, bring them to his.

He said nothing as his eyes pleaded with hers, but beneath his struggle to protect her, she saw a distinct flash of longing. Scooting closer to him on the bed, she lifted his arm gently from his side. She felt him stir under her touch, a tingle rushing through her body as she deliberately placed his outstretched hand against her breast. She held it there from a moment, feeling him stiffen from her impulsive behavior, but soon she let her own hand fall away as Will gently stroked her skin.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he struggled to speak. "So, so beautiful."

She felt tears brim in her own eyes, feeling worthy as he uttered the words. She closed her wet eyes as he ran his fingers gently beneath the curve of her breast, tracing a line down to her belly button. Her stomach fluttered, craving the feel of his gentle touch against her skin. She let out a heavy sigh as she felt his lips brush against her collar bone.

"You okay, Em?" he muttered, his lips still pressed lightly against her skin.

"I don't want you to stop," she pleaded with him, a sudden warmth passing through her body as his lips trailed down her chest, making her feel slightly dizzy. A small moan escaped her mouth as he brushed his lips against the crown of her breast, the tip of his nose nose trailing between the valley of her chest.

She gently wrapped her hands around his head, holding his face against her as she twined her fingers through his hair. His warm breath rushed across her skin as she dipped her head to rest her lips in his soft hair. "I love you, Will."

She uttered the words, lifting Will's chin, bending over to kiss him sweetly. "I love you," she muttered again, her lips curving into a smile as they pressed against his.

He kissed her back, moaning as she parted her lips, one hand holding her face while the other ran along the length of her bare side.

Breathing deeply, she brought her fingers to the collar of his shirt, beginning to work at the buttons of his work shirt. She made no effort to rush, her fingers dancing delicately across his stomach through the flimsy material of his undershirt. When she unhinged the last button, she pulled the shirt from his shoulders and then reached for the hem of his undershirt, hesitating for only a moment as she grasped the thin material in her hands, sliding the shirt over Will's head.

He sat perfectly still as she brought her hands to his body, first tracing his sculpted arms, drawing small circles with the tip her nail. Her fingers worked their way to his chest, touching the course hair that curled against his body. She brought her lips to his chest, breathing in the scent of him for a moment, letting the rough hair brush against her cheek before trailing her lips against his skin, lowering her face to his abdomen, her mouth brushing over the tight muscles.

"Mhmm, Em," Will groaned, quivering beneath her touch.

She caught her breath, positioning her body so she was straddling him once again, her skirt riding up her thighs as she pressed herself against his hardness, a thrill pulsing through her. She looked from her own body to Will's, nearly touching as she sat against him, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to feel him against her. She aligned herself against him, her breasts brushing against his chest as she reached to snake her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It felt so perfect, so right having his body molded against hers. She rested her neck in the crook of his neck as his fingers worked against the taught muscles of her back, willing her to relax against him.

After a moment, he lowered her to the bed. "You're sure this is what you want, Em?" he muttered, nuzzling her neck.

"I'm sure," she managed to whisper, finding it hard to formulate a coherent thought with his body hovering over hers. She trembled slightly, fighting to keep her words steady. "I love you, Will."

He brought his hand slowly down her body, reaching for the zipper of her skirt as he gently tugged it away. "I love you, too, Emma. So, so much."

She closed her eyes, pushing through her fear, pushing through any guilt that still remained.

"Promise me you'll tell me if you want me to stop," he whispered, his lips leaving a trail across her chest.

She found her voice, reaching for his face, locking her eyes with his. "I promise. But Will, I'm ready." She took in a deep breath, stroking his cheek softly. "I'm ready."

* * *

_A/N: Well, um, for once I don't have anything to say...I want to know what you guys think though.  
_

_Thanks guys for your continuing support!_

_And as always, thanks to my anonymous reviewers: gleefan, lodvg, Honest Reviewer, Bob, IHEARTWEMMA, and Alyssa  
_


	14. Chapter XIV

_Chapter XIV_

"Emma? Are you okay?"

She was so numb that she couldn't tell whether the spewing water was hot or cold. The water sprayed against her rigid shoulders, the heavy droplets mixing with her endless tears.

Her fingers curled around the tube of body wash, squirting out the strawberry scented substance as she began to methodically rub it over her skin for the umpteenth time.

"Em? Please answer me...you've been in there for almost an hour..." This time his voice was accompanied by panicked pounding on the door.

A sob wracked through her body as she leant her trembling body against the shower wall, sliding slowly down until her bottom hit the floor. The water continued to beat against her, freezing, she now realized. She shivered violently, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Emma!"

She flinched, resting her head against her bare knees, her mind reeling as he continued to pound. After a moment, the frantic knocking ceased, and all Emma could hear was the endless splash of cold water against the tiled floor.

A jiggling noise broke through the silence, causing Emma to lift her head in curiosity. The door swung open suddenly, bringing in a rush of cold air. Emma shivered harder.

"Emma? Please talk to me..." His voice was much louder without the barrier the door offered. She clamped her arms around her legs, letting her head fall back against her knees, the cold water continuing to endlessly fall. "Shit, Em, I'm so sorry..."

She was surprised to see his hand reach into the shower, shutting off the supply of water. The silence was deafening for a moment, before he sighed heavily. "Emma, can you please just come out?"

She bit her lip, hugging her knees tighter against her chest.

"Emma..." his voice was laced with concern, though the overlying tone was clearly frustrated. "Emma, please..." She dared to lift her head up from her knees, noticing that Will's fingers were curled around the edge of the curtain. "Em, please don't make me do this..."

She tucked her face back against her knees, hardly noticing when he tugged the curtain away, a rush of chilly air sweeping over her.

"Oh, Em..." he muttered, and she could only imagine him looking at her naked, trembling body in pity. She squeezed her eyes closed, biting her lip as she ineffectively held in another sob.

She felt a warm weight fall against her shoulder as he draped a towel over her body. He rubbed her shoulder gently through the material, whispering softly. "Em, please, I'm so, so sorry...everything's going to be okay."

"But I couldn't do it!" The words burst from her lips with fervor as she lifted her dripping face.

She had been so ready, so willing. Months and months of preparation had readied her for this, and she had been ready to give herself so completely to Will. Will had been gentle, talking her through each foreign touch, reassuring her that it was okay, promising her they could stop if she wasn't ready.

It had felt so nice, so perfect, having Will's fingers softly caress her, his own bare body hovering over hers. But as his fingers had reached her panties, a wave of panic had shot through her body. She felt dirty as unwanted memories flooded her, trying ineffectively to remind herself that it was okay for Will to touch her. But she had clamped her thighs together, unable to allow even Will's gentle fingers to touch her there.

She had begun to shake violently, bursting into tears before his fingers could even enter her. In an irrational frenzy, she had bolted for the bathroom, her shaking hands turning the shower dial as hot as it would go. The scalding water, burning her skin raw, brought her a sense of safety and comfort as she tried to hold herself together.

Now, she trembled, cold from the freezing droplets that covered her bare body. Will, still shirtless, sat on the edge of the tub, his the cuffs of his khaki pants soaked from the remaining water.

"Emma, please don't do this..." he whispered, lifting her chin so that his eyes met hers.

"But I was ready." Her voice was heavy with tears and frustration; she wanted nothing more than to tear her gaze away from Will's compassionate eyes, his patience becoming unbearable. "I was handling it all so well..."

"Yes, Emma, you were," Will immediately agreed, tucking a dripping strand of hair behind her ear. "We got father than we ever have before, and I'm so, so proud of you."

"But I wanted to, Will. I wanted to go all the way," Emma muttered, shivering again.

"Come on, Em. Let's get you in some clothes," he sighed, dropping the topic for a moment as he gently supported her elbow as she rose from the tub.

When she made no move to wrap the falling towel adequately around her body, Will tugged it securely around her, leading her down the hall to her bedroom as her teeth chattered violently.

She continued to shiver, holding the towel against her shaking body as Will stepped into her closet, emerging with a pale blue nightgown a moment later. "Can you put this on for me, Em?" he asked her gently.

She nodded, taking the flimsy nightie in her quivering hand. He courteously stepped out of the room, the door clicking behind him. She let the towel fall to the floor as she pulled the nightgown over her form. Leaving the towel in a heap on the floor, Emma crawled onto the edge of the bed, curling up into a ball, her wet hair plastered against her cheek.

Will re-entered the room shortly, sighing heavily as he sat down gently on the bed beside her, running his fingers through her tangled hair. She closed her eyes, feeling the hot tears stream from her eyes once more.

"Em, I'm so sorry," Will apologized once again. "I never wanted you to feel this way..."

"Not your fault," she mumbled thickly through her tears. "My fault. All my fault..."

"Em, no, please. Let's not play the blame game..." Will pleaded with her. "You know that this isn't your fault...you know that I'm not angry or frustrated or upset with you."

She knew that. Will's perfection and patience were never failing, only causing the guilt from her inadequacy to burn stronger in her gut. Will deserved so much more than the fragile brokenness she had to offer.

A strangled noise escaped her lips, her frustration and grief pouring from her.

"Oh, Em," he muttered. "I'm so sorry..."

"Please," she managed to whispered, shutting her eyes once again. "Please don't..."

"Baby, I love you so much," he uttered softly.

For once, she did not respond, crying harder as she pulled away from him, slipping beneath the pale green comforter. She felt him join her a moment later, though she refused to turn toward him.

"Baby? Do you want me to hold you?" he offered gently. She only pulled her knees to her chest, feeling sick as she wrestled with the ugly knot that had formed in her chest. "I want to make this better...I want to make this go away..." he whispered desperately.

But nothing could make it go away. She could not tell him that after months of building a strong foundation, everything she had worked for—everything _they _had worked for had been in vain. Perhaps the foundation had never even existed. It was only an illusion, giving her false hope that she could somehow heal herself.

She heard him sigh heavily, turning the opposite direction as she continued to cry silently. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his strong embrace, but like everything else, it would only be a lie, false comfort for a wound unable to be mended.

Will soon fell asleep, his even breathing washing over the silent room. Emma allowed her own eyes to close, falling into a fitful slumber plagued by incoherent dreams that left her trembling. She woke up suddenly, sweating heavily. She sat up, feeling disoriented and completely unaware of how much time had passed. She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling nauseous as she glanced over at Will continuing to sleep soundly beside her, the tightness in her chest increasing as everything flooded back.

She rubbed circles against her temples, willing herself to breath, in vain, as her stomach lurched violently. She stumbled from the bed, untangling herself from her sheets as she hurried down the hall to the bathroom, falling to her knees in front of the toilet.

"Please, God, please no," she whispered fervently, already tasting the bile in her throat. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she leant over the bowl, upheaving the contents of her stomach.

She barely registered when Will knelt down beside her, gently pulling her hair away from her face. When she was empty, she pulled away, trembling, trying to rise to her feet. Her ankles gave out, and she collapsed into Will's arms, burying her sweaty face against his chest.

"Emma, baby," he soothed, leaning back against the bathroom wall as he pulled her into his lap. "Are you okay?"

She was far from okay, her mind reeling as her stomach lurched again. "Will!" she gasped, struggling to pull herself from his grasp as she brought herself over the toilet once again, this time choking up hardly anything except air.

"Oh, Em," Will muttered, stroking her hair gently as she leant away from the toilet. "I'm so, so sorry..."

She didn't bother to chastise him this time, too weak to formulate coherent words. She shivered for a moment, her hair falling across her flushed face. "I need a shower," she managed to rasp, lifting a shaky hand to tuck her damp hair behind her ear.

"Em, you already showered tonight," Will pleaded with her, helping her rise slowly to her feet. "You've already rubbed your skin raw. Let's brush your teeth then go back to bed..."

"No! No! No!" she shrieked, falling against him as her legs trembled violently. "I need...Will..." she gasped, her words soon turning into uncontrollable sobs.

"Em," he practically begged, flushing the toilet and putting down the lid so he could sit on the lid, pulling Emma into his lap. "What's bugging you? I'm so sorry about what happened earlier...but its over. He's not here, I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Nothing but her own guilt and brokenness. She could not begin to explain that ugly feelings that tore through her body were hardly from the brief memories of Alex's brutality. Her panic from her unwanted feelings had faded quickly, but the guilt from the way it continued to hinder her would not fade. She would never be able to give Will the beautiful gift of physical love. His unending patience with her could not last forever, and it was not fair of her to continue to drag him down.

He soon coaxed her to forgo the shower. She brushed her teeth until Will had to pry a bloody tooth brush out of her grasp. She washed her face thoroughly before Will led her back down the hall to the bedroom.

"Em, are you sure you don't want to talk?" he offered as he tucked her gently beneath the blanket. She kept her mouth firmly shut, shying away from him once again as she tucked her knees to her chest.

He brought his fingers gently to her hair, gently stroking her tangled locks. "I love you," he promised her again, the pain evident in his voice. "I love you so much."

She closed her eyes, wishing she could express her love as selflessly as he did.

XXXX

She hated everything.

But mostly she hated herself.

Morning had come, her throat still burning from the acidic vomit as she turned her tear stained face toward Will. He had begged her to take a sick day, that he would even stay home with her if she wanted, but she had insisted she'd be fine.

It had taken a lot of false reassurances to get him to go home so he could change into proper attire for the school day. Emma's anxiety did not relent as she started her familiar morning routine, feeling sick as she showered and nearly crying after trying on five different outfits without feeling content with a single one.

She was late as left, taking a full five minutes to merely depart from her condo parking lot because her endless tears impaired her vision. She hurried to her office, finding a folded note on her desk as soon as she managed to settle in.

_Emma, _

_I love you so much. I want you to know that, no matter what happens, no matter how you feel. We're going to work through this, I promise you. I'm going to be here for you every step of the way. _

He left it unsigned, probably in his hurry to make it to his first period class. She curled her fingers around the note, her chest hurting as her guilt tugged deeper, continuing to overwhelm her. Her eyes grew watery once again.

The click of her office door startled her, causing her to flinch as Finn Hudson entered her office, looking just as started to see his guidance counselor such a wreck.

"Um, I can come back later, Miss P," he muttered, turning for the door.

"Finn, no, now's fine," she insisted, pulling herself together as best as she could manage. This was her job, her duty, and she was not about to let her personal life get in the way. "Why don't you, um, take a seat," she offered, fighting to keep her voice steady.

The tall boy arranged himself in the padded chair, still looking hesitant as he looked at her swollen face.

"What can I do for you?" she muttered, her fingers still curling around Will's note as she fiddled with the paper.

"Uh, well, I was kind of thinking more about those scholarships you talked about last year, and since I'm a junior, and all, now..."

Emma found it hard to concentrate on his words as she fought to keep her composure, and when his voice fell silent, and he gave her an expectant look, she realized she had not heard a word he had said. "I'm, um, sorry, Finn, but would mind repeating that...the last part at least..." she whispered, willing herself to concentrate this time.

"Are you sure you want to do this now, Miss P? You don't look so great," he told her. "I mean, not bad, or anything...just sad," he amended quickly.

"It's nothing really, Finn," she sighed, her eyes darting to the note in her hand once again.

"Are you sure?" he asked once again, looking from his hands to her eyes nervously. "Because if there's something I can do, you know, I'd like to help..."

She managed a faint smile, her lips trembling from the simple action. "That's really sweet of you, but really, Finn, it's um, nothing that concerns you...now where were we?"

As she said the words, the note slipped from her grasp, falling to the floor. She reached to catch it, knocking over her mug filled with pens as she did so, the ceramic vessels clattering to the floor with a crash.

She whimpered, her eyes widening as she watched it break. Tears spilled hotly down her cheeks before she could rein them in. She glanced up a Finn, looking uncomfortable as she cried openly. "I'm so sorry...maybe, um, now isn't a good time after all..."

He nodded, glancing toward the door, but as his eyes darted back to the broken mug. "Let me help you clean that up first..." he offered, bending over to pick up the pieces. It had broken cleanly into three distinct pieces, and after he disposed of it in her trashcan, he gathered the pens, glancing nervously at the fallen note before retrieving that as well.

"Here you go Miss P," he told her quietly, placing them neatly on the desk.

"Thank you, Finn," she muttered, taking a Kleenex to dry her cheeks. "I'm really sorry you had to see me this way. I just have a lot going on right now, but that's still no excuse..."

"Don't worry about," he assured her, giving her a crooked smile. "Really, I understand that. I've felt that way, and stuff, and it's okay that you do too..." he trailed off.

His sincerity comforted her, and she managed another smile, this one not so forced. "Thanks, Finn...I just don't know what to do," she sighed, opening up against her better judgment.

Finn gave her sad smile. "Yeah..."

"What do you do, Finn?" the words spilled from her mouth suddenly. "What do you when you feel like everything's going completely wrong?"

Finn shrugged for a moment, looking timidly at her. "I go where everything always feels okay," he caught her gaze as he continued. "I go home."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry, this is definitely on the shorter side. But consider it a treat I updated so quickly :] We're nearing the end...just two more chapters after this..._

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: lodvg, Alyssa, and Honest Reviewer.  
_


	15. Chapter XV

_Chapter XV_

"_Hey, it's Will, please leave a message, and I'll get back to you when I can."_

_Beep!_

"Um, Will, hey...it's me...I just wanted, um, to tell you how sorry I am...about the way things turned out...and I feel awful, that I can never be enough, especially, um, when you're always so gentle and understanding. I want to be everything for you, but I now realize that...that I can't—and it hurts me so much, to even say it. But Will, you deserve someone better than me—someone who can match your unfailing love, someone who's not going to keep dragging you down.

"Will, I'm leaving. Im—I'm going home. I told Figgins I'm, um, taking an extended leave—just until I can figure things out. I've been running and hiding for too long now, and—and I know I need to do this.

"Please don't worry about me. It will be better this way—for now. But, Will, I do always want you to know th—"

_Beep!_

"...that I love you."

XXXX

She shivered as she stepped from the car, the chilly night air wrapping around her as she inhaled silence.

As she closed the car door, the click of the hinge was deafening, echoing through the eerily quiet night, causing her to jump as she stepped away from her exhausted car. She shivered, pulling her trench coat tightly around her as she made her away up the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath her feet. She kept her eyes firmly planted on the ground in front of her, not yet ready to let the nostalgic memories from the familiar surroundings flood her yet.

She stepped up onto the porch, the old wood creaking under her light step. She reached for the door hinge, not surprised to find it unlocked. However, as she turned the knob, she hesitated, the territory suddenly feeling forbidden.

This wasn't her home anymore.

Biting her lip, she reached for the door bell, squeezing her eyes closed as the chime rang into the heavy darkness. It didn't take long for her to hear a shuffling, the front staircase moaning heavily, accompanied by voices. "Maggie, please go back and wait upstairs."

Her heart skipped a beat, upon hearing his voice. She fought to keep her composure, biting down harder on the fragile skin of her lip.

"Who would be at our house at three in the morning?" the other voice answered, concern laced in her words. The footsteps grew closer.

The door clicked open a moment later. "Who's ther—?"

The voice stopped. Emma lifted her face to see the shocked expression of her father. Her mother brought her hand to her heart, her mouth hanging open. "Oh my..."

"Maybird," her father muttered gruffly, his watery eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Emma found her voice, speaking through the heavy lump in her throat. "Mama...Daddy..."

And then she began to cry.

XXXX

She managed to stumble over the threshold, her vision blurred as she sobbed uncontrollably. She ended up in her father's strong arms, her wet face buried in his shoulder as she breathed in the musky scent of his cologne. Her mother came up gently behind her, stroking her hair softly.

She was reminded of all the times she had cried in her parents arms for much more trivial reasons, and the memories only made her cry harder.

"Shh, Emma, honey. Everything's going to be okay," her mother instinctively soothed.

Her father said nothing as he continued to hold her firmly, a sturdy rock as she could no longer hold herself together.

When he tears subsided, she pulled away. Wiping her wet cheek as she sniffled, she glanced at her parents through bleary eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Emma, honey, what are you apologizing for?" her mother immediately chastised her.

The tears she had just wiped away were replaced by an onslaught of new ones as her eyes grew watery once again. "For coming like this, without notice and so late..."

"Oh, Em—" he mother started, but Emma cut her off.

"And for never coming home..." he voice broke over the last word. This time, it was her mother who wrapped her arms around Emma's trembling form.

"Shhh, sweetheart, there's nothing for you to apologize for. Your father and I aren't upset with you. We just want to make sure that you're okay..." her mother assured her.

"I'm fine, Mama. Everything's fine..." she choked over the words, burying her face in her mother's neck as she fought another bout of tears. "I just wanted to come home..." she whispered.

Her mother's arms tightened around her as she held her daughter closer. "We're so glad you're home—I'm so glad you're back."

"How much," her voice broke again, and she had to clear her throat before continuing. "How much did Tom tell you?"

Her mother's grasp stiffened. She pulled away, a look of pity in her eyes as Emma met her gaze. "Tom told us all he knew..."

The heavy solemnity hung around them, expectant silence radiating off her parents as their angry curiosity burned deeply, though too tactful to ask the questions searing in their minds.

"I—I don't want to talk about it right now," Emma muttered, feeling nauseous as she said the words.

"Of course not. Of course we don't have to talk about it," her mother immediately blurted, looking nervous as Emma began to wring her shaking hands together. "It's late, sweetheart. We can catch up in the morning. I'll go put sheets on the bed in your room while you take a shower, okay?"

Emma nodded appreciatively, watching as her mother disappeared up the stairs. She turned to her father, looking hard and angry as he refused to speak.

"Daddy," she whispered, her heart heavy as she try to comprehend the pain her father was feeling. "It's okay. I'm okay now..."

She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Maybird," he choked, winding his arms around her body. "Oh, Maybird..."

He held her for a moment longer before pulling away, clearing his throat. Emma saw at once that his wrinkled face was soaked in tears. "You go take your shower...do you have a bag in the car?"

She nodded.

"I'll—I'll go get that," he told her, his voice nearly breaking.

As she ascended the steps, she heard her father choke out another sob. She hurried to the tiny bathroom, shedding her clothes as she tried not to cry. But as she stepped behind the curtain, her tears soon mixed with the steaming water.

XXXX

"Up so early? And already cleaning...I should've guessed."

Emma turned to see her father, holding a cup of steaming coffee and a folded newspaper. The smiled that played on his lips did not reach his eyes.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," she lied. She had slept fitfully, her swirling dreams causing her to wake up in tears. She had given up around six, tiptoeing down the steps and immediately throwing herself into the methodical task of cleaning. The repetitive action always brought her comfort.

"Eat any breakfast yet?" he father asked her, sipping his coffee.

She nodded, though her empty stomach gnawed at her sides. She was certain she wouldn't be able to stomach anything, no matter how hungry she was. She shifted a pile of books to the other side of the shelf, dusting the already immaculate surface.

"Emma, what are you doing?" Her father sighed, and the use of her proper name startled her.

She jerked her head up. "Just cleaning, Daddy..." she answered softly, though she knew his question was meant to dig much deeper.

"Maybird, why don't you come on a walk with me?" he asked her, continuing to sip his coffee as he caught her gaze.

She stiffened, twisting her dusting rag between her fingers. "I don't know, Daddy..."

"Just a walk, Maybird, I promise," he nearly pleaded with her. "Just a walk..."

She nodded, knowing that her father meant well. It was only fair of her to respect that after what her absence had put him through.

She pulled on her green trench coat, scarf, and knitted beret as she braced herself for the chilly November morning. She followed her father, stepping out onto the porch, the dull sunlight greeting them as the familiar stairs creaked beneath her feet. Her father said nothing, blowing out a steady stream of air, his breath clouding around his face as they began to walk down the road.

Her heels clicked against the pavement as she buried her cold face in her scarf. She turned to look at her father, his hands shoved into the pocket of his coat, looking at her with a concerned expression.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she muttered, giving him a sideways glance.

"No, Maybird, I should be the one apologizing..." her father sighed, stopping as he turned to look at her. He reached for her gently, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I wanted to protect you, Maybird, ever since the day I first held you in my arms...but I failed you. I failed you, Emma...and I'll never forgive myself that I let you get hurt..."

"Oh, Daddy," Emma choked out the words. "Please don't. Please don't blame yourself...It's not your fault, Daddy. It's not your fault at all."

"And you know it's not your fault, Maybird? I never want you to blame yourself for what that bastard did to you..." he father practically seethed, less tactful as he let his pent up emotions loose. Emma was reminded of the conversation she had had with her brother three years before, the anger he felt toward the man who had broken Emma's life.

"Of course not, Daddy," she assured him, her lie only becoming more true with each person she told. Though she knew her guilt would never fully vanish, she had come to accept more and more that what had happened was not fully her fault. "I know it's not my fault.."

"It makes me angry, knowing he's still out there, getting away with all he did..." he murmured through his clenched teeth.

Emma stiffened as she recalled her pleas to Tom to leave the matter be—to let Alex be. "D-does he still live here?" she dared to ask, her voice weak as she said the words.

Her father's arms tightened protectively around her. "Your brother and I were intent on tracking him down after you left...to make sure you hadn't gone back to him..." Here Emma squeezed her eyes closed, concentrating on the security she felt in her father's arms. "And to see if we could put the bastard behind bars like he deserved...but he left, a wise choice on his part...his parents wouldn't tell us where he had gone, and they denied all accusations; it only would've ended up being a big mess, trying to press charges, especially without you to testify..." Here he began to cry. Emma watched as her father's face became soaked in tears, a lump forming in her own throat as well.

"Daddy..." she tried, reaching out to embrace him once again. "It doesn't matter anymore..."

He stiffened, and she was sure he was going to argue her statement, and rightfully so, but instead he hugged her tighter, taking a shaky breath through his tears. "I love you, Maybird. I love you so much."

Her tears spilled over hotly. "I love you, too, Daddy..."

When he pulled away, he smiled at her weakly, his eyes still red from his tears. She feebly returned the smile, giving his hand a gently squeeze, continuing to walk, the silence now more comfortable. A feeling of relief settled between the two, as they both came to terms with all they had locked inside for so long now.

As they approached the end of the road, Emma stopped in her tracks, looking quizzically at the scene before her. "What happened to the farm, Daddy?"

Though the dairy farm that had changed her life had been shut down for years, the old barn still remained. Now, the vast expanse of land lay barren and empty, not a trace of the old farm in sight. The dried up lagoon was the only remnant that Emma could recognize from her fateful visit.

"Finally knocked it down, not long after you left," he father explained, following Emma's gaze across the empty land. "Last I heard, they're building a playground there."

Her eyes widened as she continued to stare at the lot. She had remembered passing the desolate dairy farm for years, staring at the site, memories of the day that had forever changed her life flooding back. The farm no longer served a purpose, a useless edifice, forgotten and worthless, unable to perform its original function in its current state.

But as now as she gazed at the land, imagining the colorful playground taking its place, a small smile played at her lips. That horrible farm, a place Emma had always thought to be useless beyond repair, would now perform another function—a better function. It would emerge from its desolation even stronger than before.

"What are you smiling at, Maybird?" he father asked, looking at her quizzically.

Emma allowed her smile to grow as her newfound hope found her, filling her brokenness, realizing fully for the first time how beauty could rise from destruction.

"Nothing, Daddy," she told him elusively, turning from the farm and heading back up the road. "Let's go home."

XXXX

The afternoon with her parents passed quickly, the tension her presence had originally brought lessening considerably as they became comfortable once again.

"Thanks, Mama," Emma smiled at her mother as she helped clear the table. "Dinner was great."

Her mother had made lemon chicken for dinner, one of the few ways Emma would eat meat, and though fruit salad hardly went along with poultry and seasoned rice, Emma's mother had spent the day peeling and cutting fruits from the organic market just for her daughter.

"It was my pleasure, darling," he mother assured her. "I've missed cooking for you."

After the dishes were washed and placed into the cupboards, Emma found herself yawning as her eyelids drooped.

"I think I need to go to bed..." she sighed, following her parents into the living room.

"Of course, sweetheart," her mother said, brushing Emma's hair away from her forehead to place a gentle kiss against her skin. "You look beat, and tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

She was too tired to comprehend her mother's words and question her about the events tomorrow held. She embraced both her parents, stumbling up the steps to take a quick shower. This time, as she tucked herself under the familiar sheets, the comfort of her small room enveloping her, sleep claimed her immediately.

XXXX

She awoke to the sound of voices coming from downstairs—much too loud to be only her parents'.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her neck, her tired eyes finding the clock across the room. The red number blared eleven thirty, causing Emma to groan. She never slept this late.

She could not make herself rise from her warm bed, the thought of the chilly morning air causing her to shudder. And she certainly did not want to get up and discover the source of the voices downstairs—she was in no mood to make herself presentable, let alone interact socially.

She curled back under the blanket, snuggling against the soft material as she bought herself more time. She had just allowed her eyes to close when the door to her bedroom swung open.

Startled, she pulled her blanket tighter against her body, her eyes widening as she took in the figure standing before her, tall man with tousled red hair, holding a little girl in his arms.

"Tom," she breathed, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to compose herself. "What are you doing here?"

Tom smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed, shifting the child in his grasp. "Em, it's Thanksgiving."

XXXX

"Dad told me you were up here," Tom explained as Emma sat up in the bed, smoothing out the matieral of her nightgown, trying to comprehend the rush of events. The date had completely slipped her mind. "I'm so glad you're home..." he muttered, his voice growing thick as he said the words.

He leant over to hug her, and Emma absentmindedly slipped into his embrace, her mind still reeling. The child squirmed between them, causing Emma to pull away from her brother.

"Liv, can you say hello your Aunt Emma?" Tom encouraged, looking down at his daughter.

Emma's jaw dropped, looking properly at her for the first time, in awe that the little baby she had left behind had become this little girl.

Olivia shyly buried her face in her father's shoulder.

"She's usually not bashful," Tom chuckled. "I think she's just a little out of it still from the nap she took in the car." He glanced down at Olivia, prying her away from his shoulder. "This is your Aunt Emma, sweetheart...she used to know you when you were just a little baby," he explained to the four-year-old.

A small smile wove across the little girl's lips as she dared to look at Emma. Emma smiled back, her heart breaking a little as she realized just how much of her niece's life she had missed.

"I don't 'member her," Olivia's smile turned into a frown as she glanced between her aunt and her father.

Tom chuckled again. "That's because you were just a baby, honey."

"Like Benny?" she asked.

Tom nodded to confirm it. "Just like Benny."

Olivia turned back to Emma. "Benny is my baby brother, 'cept he's not a little baby anymore, because he can walk sometimes, but he falls down. And he says some words."

Emma could immediately see the bright and vibrant side of her niece emerging, though it was hard for her to imagine the baby she had known had transformed into this talkative little girl.

"And I have another baby brother or sister, 'cept its inside of Mommy's belly right now, and we have to wait a while before it comes out," Olivia continued to explaining, becoming more and more animated.

Emma glanced at Tom, her eyes widening from the news. "Congratulations," she mouthed as Olivia continued to chatter. Tom smiled proudly in returned.

"Why don't we all go downstairs?" Tom suggested, scooping Olivia up as he rose from the bed.

"Can I show Aunt Emma Benny and the baby in Mommy's tummy?" Olivia asked, growing excited as she said the words.

"Why don't you ask Aunt Emma?" Tom suggested, placing Olivia on the ground as she scrambled toward the bed.

"Aunt Emma, please, please, please come down with us so I can show you!" Olivia pleaded.

Emma looked at Tom, a grin crossing her face as she looked at the little girl's wide eyes. "Just give me a few minutes to get dressed, and I'll come right downstairs," she promised, unable to refuse the child.

Olivia's face lit up once again. "Can I help you get your clothes? Sometimes Mommy lets me pick hers!"

Emma looked nervously at Tom, the thought of Olivia choosing her clothes making her feel a little unsettled as she deviated away from her routine.

"Liv, maybe it's best it—" Tom started, but Emma cut him off, breaking out of her comfort zone.

"Of course you can help me, sweetheart," Emma told her, smiling genuinely.

Tom stood in the doorway from a moment longer, looking shocked by Emma's words.

"Daddy!" Olivia exclaimed, running toward the door. "You need to get out! Only girls are allowed now."

He chuckled. "I'll see you guys downstairs soon," he told them as he closed the door.

"Do you have any dresses?" Olivia asked, immediately taking charge.

Emma was surprised by the amount of authority the little girl could muster. She obediently went to her suitcase, revealing her neatly packed clothing. "I have lots of dresses and skirts," she informed her niece, carefully beginning to lay out articles of clothing.

It soon became a game of dress up. Olivia made Emma try on three different outfits before she was satisfied.

"There," Olivia said proudly, looking at her handiwork.

Emma now donned a floral skirt, a mauve blouse that clashed hideously with the pattern of her skirt, a light pink sweater.

"And these shoes," Olivia demanded, holding up Emma's yellowed toed Mary Janes.

Emma sighed, pulling the shoes onto her feet, glancing at her mismatched appearance in the mirror. Olivia grinned widely, the contagious smile immediately affecting Emma.

"Come on. Let's go down and see Mommy and Daddy," Olivia encouraged, grabbing Emma's hand and practically dragging her out the door.

Emma pushed away her embarrassment and annoyance from the awful outfit, instead focusing on how happy it had made her niece.

"Come on!" Olivia prodded once again, dashing into the living room as soon as they reached the bottom of the steps. "Look at Aunt Emma, everyone!" she exclaimed, running back over to Emma and smiling proudly.

Gwen, sitting on the couch with a very swollen belly looked up at Emma, biting her lip to contain her laughter. Her mother, sitting on the floor with a blonde haired baby looked up, laugh lines creasing her face as she couldn't help but to smile. Tom made no effort to contain his bellowing laughter, and soon everyone joined in, including a blushing Emma.

"Don't you like it?" Olivia demanded over the laughter, looking hurt.

"Of course, sweetheart," Gwen assured her between chuckles. "You're quite the little fashion designer."

Olivia beamed, soon smiling herself as she led Emma over to the rest of the family.

"You see that baby—that's Benny," Olivia informed Emma, pointing the baby, who had pulled his chubby body up against the side of the couch. "His hair's not red like mine, but Mommy and Daddy says the baby might get red hair," Olivia said excitedly, her focus switching to her pregnant mother.

"Congratulations, Gwen," Emma told her as she sat down on the couch beside her sister-in-law.

Gwen smiled, her blue eyes shining genuinely.

"Is that who I think it is? Did I just hear my favorite granddaughter's voice?" Emma's father emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a turkey baster.

Olivia's big brown eyes lit up. "Grandpa!"

She ran over to him with unfailing energy, attaching herself to one of his long legs. "How about you come help me in the kitchen, sweet pea?" he asked, Olivia eagerly taking his hand as the disappeared into the adjoining room.

Emma turned to look at her family, smiling broadly in spite of herself.

"I'm so glad you're back, Emma," Gwen told her, turning to the red head and returning Emma's smile.

Tom grinned from across the room. "Yeah, Em, welcome home."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much for your feedback! This story has been such a pleasure to write for you guys. Next chapter is the last. I'm sad it's over, but I'm also excited to try out some new ideas with this upcoming season, so be sure to keep an eye out for some new stories :]_

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: xxgirlbaggagexx, lalala, Megan, Honest Reviewer, lodvg, gleefan, and Karen._


	16. Chapter XVI

_Chapter XVI_

"Again, Aunt Emma! Again!" Olivia shrieked, her laughter filling the air as she grabbed hold of her aunt's hand. "The lava monster's coming! We have to stay off the ground!"

Emma sighed heavily, smiling in spite of herself as the four-year-old once again dragged her to the nearest throw pillow that lined the living room floor. "He can't get us if we stay up here," she explained for the umpteenth time, gasping for breath as she held tightly to Emma's hand.

"He's coming!" Olivia shrieked, and Emma followed Olivia's gaze to the invisible terror heading their way, feigning an expression of panic. "We have to get higher up!"

Emma stumbled as she jumped for the couch, falling against the cushions. She closed her eyes, feeling spent. Chasing a four-year-old around for the morning had worn her out.

"Aunt Emma, he's coming!" Olivia persisted, falling on top of Emma as she jumped over to the couch.

Emma grunted as the child's body collided with hers, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Olivia pulled her body erect, situating herself on Emma's stomach as she looked at her curiously. "What's so funny?"

Emma shook her head, unable to stop her laughter. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this way—so free, so unburdened. This morning, upon being awaken by Olivia at seven, she had been unsure about throwing herself fully into this child's world, but seeing the way Olivia's face lit up made her willing to give up her own need for comfort as she allowed herself to let go. "I think Aunt Emma needs a nap..." Emma finally muttered when she caught her breath. She closed her eyes once again, beginning to fake snore.

Olivia laughed. "Naps are for babies," she insisted, but she curled up against Emma, tucking her head into her neck. "I love you, Aunt Emma," Olivia muttered suddenly, snuggling closer to her aunt.

Emma's heart skipped a beat as the words rushed through her. She brought her arms up around the child's small body, holding her tightly. "I love you, too, Olivia. I love you so much."

"I don't want you to ever leave," Olivia whispered, clinging to Emma.

Emma stiffened, holding Olivia more closely as reality flooded back. She could promise this child nothing.

The doorbell rang, startling both of them. Olivia shot up like bolt, looking curiously toward the front entrance.

"I'll get it," Tom assured them, appearing from the kitchen holding half of messy sandwich in his hand.

Emma nodded appreciatively, her hand instinctively reaching for her mussed hair. She glanced around the messy living room, suddenly feeling uneasy, wondering if the unknown visitor would be staying. "Liv, let's clean up a bit in here, okay?"

Olivia's face fell, the idea of cleaning certainly not appealing to her, but she did not argue with her aunt as she began to pick up the throw pillows from the floor and place them back on the couch.

"Emma…" Tom's voice came from the direction of the entrance, sounding strangely distant, almost concerned.

Emma's heart skipped a beat, the tone in his voice frightening her. She took Olivia's hand securely in hers as she headed for the door.

"What is it, Tom?" she asked as soon as she stepped into the hall, Olivia tottering beside her.

"Who's that?" Olivia immediately inquired, and Emma jerked her face away from Tom's, her gaze falling on the figure standing in the doorway.

Emma's eyes widened as she stumbled backward, letting Olivia's hand fall from her own. Her throat tightened as she stuttered over her words. "W-w-will, what are you d-doing here?"

"So you know him?" Tom's words sounded miles away as she locked eyes with Will, a pang of emotion ripping through her.

"Emma..." he whispered softly, her mind swimming as she continued to look at him, a thousand questions on her mind, a millions things she wanted to tell him.

Will stepped toward, smiling sadly as he took her hand gently in his. Her eyes welled up with tears from the simple touch, her whole body ripping open from the intense emotions that coursed through her.

"Who's at the door?"

She jerked her gaze away from Will's to see her parents nearing the doorway, her father looking cold and suspicious while her mother's eyes rested on their interlocked hands. Gwen emerged from the steps, holding a sleepy looking Benjamin in her arms.

Emma swallowed hard, averting her gaze away from her family's harrowing stares. She continued to look at her feet as she spoke. "Um, everyone this is, uh, Will...my boyfriend..."

XXXX

Her father visibly stiffened, and she immediately regretted looking up to find Tom glaring harshly in Will's direction. Her mother said nothing, her eyes wide, and Gwen, always the tactful one, turned around to bring the baby back upstairs, motioning for Olivia to join her. The four-year-old begrudgingly followed.

"Hi, everyone," Will whispered softly, hesitantly.

Tom's glare only grew harder, and her father folded his arms across his chest. The heavy tension grew, and Emma dug her foot into the ground to keep from crying, pushing back the lump in her throat.

"It's about lunch time," he mother announced, her voice an octave too high, motioning for her family to join her in the kitchen.

Emma swallowed hard, tugging at Will's hand gently as they entered into the kitchen.

"So how long how you two been dating?" her father asked gruffly.

Emma flinched, the tone is his voice heightening her anxiety. "Um, well, i-it's been, um—" she stumbled helplessly over her words.

"About five months now," Will answered for her, his voice soft, trying his best to appease her her family.

Her father did not speak as he grabbed two beers from the fridge, handing on to Tom and keeping one for himself, mulling over Will's answer to his question.

"Can I get you something to drink...Will..." he mother hesitantly spoke his name, looking anxiously between her daughter and the man who had appeared on their doorstep.

Emma bit her tongue, feeling overwhelmed and angry. "I'll get him something, Mama," she insisted, trying in vain to alleviate the bitter atmosphere.

Her hands shook as she reached for the handle of the cabinet, the violent quivering causing her clumsy hand to knock over a tall glass, shattering on the tiled floor in front of her. She stumbled backward, falling to the floor.

"Emma!" she wasn't sure whose voice had spoken, feeling her head spin as all three men in the kitchen rushed toward her.

"Are you okay, Emma?" It was Tom who spoke, glancing nervously at Emma to make sure her hands hadn't been pierced by any of the sharp shards.

"I'm fine, Tom," she muttered through gritted teeth, accepting her father's hand as she struggled to her feet, receiving anxious glances from both Will and her brother as she steadied herself.

"Let me go get a broom," Emma muttered, trying her best to push through the tension, wishing desperately that the others in the room would try as well.

"No, Emma, honey, I'll get it," her mother quickly assured her, heading over to the cabinet to busy herself with the simple task.

Will stepped up beside Emma, taking her hand gently in his. "Are you sure you're okay, sweetheart?"

She locked gazes with him, wanting nothing more than to take the time to talk with him alone. But as her father fidgeted uncomfortably, and Tom glared undeservingly at Will once again, she knew that asking for a moment alone would only make things worse.

"Can I talk to both of you for a minute?" Emma hissed, glancing significantly at her father and her brother. She gave Will an apologetic look as she stepped toward the kitchen entrance, motioning for Tom and her father to follow.

"Let me give you a hand with that, Mrs. Pillsbury," she heard Will offer, his voice growing distant as she led the two men into the living room.

She paced nervously as they both took a seat, her father crossing his arms across his chest and Tom

"You two have to stop this," she stated frankly, wringing her hands together as she shot them each a significant glare.

"Stop what?" Tom immediately retaliated. "He shows up on our doorstep, no explanation, no invitation, making you upset—I don't like this Emma. I don't like this one damn bit."

Emma sat down in the arm chair opposite them. "Tom, please, you're judging too quickl—"

"Emma, you ran away from him, and don't you try to lie to me. That's the reason you're down here right now, and I've already made the mistake of ignoring the signs before. I can't even tell you how I upset I am, thinking about that bastard already hurting you, but I can tell you I'm sure as hell not going to let him do anything else. I'm not going to let anything else happen to you, Emma..." his voice broke as he trailed off, and she watched her father place a reassuring hand on her brother's shoulder.

"Maybird, please let us help you, please don't—" her father started.

"No!" Emma harshly cut him off, feeling tears brim in her eyes as she spoke. "You can't just judge him like that. He's not anything like Alex..."

"Then tell us why you ran away, Emma. He did something to you, Emma, and don't try to lie," Tom spat, his eyes enflamed with anger.

"It's not what you're thinking, Tom. I promise you. It's my fault that I left. He didn't do anything. I promise you he didn't do anything. Will loves me," she floundered helplessly for an explanation, desperately wishing to prove that she had not left one abusive relationship just to fall into another.

"Your fault? _Your _fault? Emma, when is this going to stop?" Tom exasperated, standing from the couch. He crossed the length of room, stopping in front of Emma's chair. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her lip trembling as he took her squarely by the shoulders. "Look at me, Emma. Look at me, and listen to me—just because some bastard comes around, claiming that you he loves you doesn't mean that you have to put up with him—doesn't mean you have defend him. Just listen to me, just—"

"No, Tom!" she exploded, standing up to level her gaze with his. "You listen to me! I know this has been hard on you, knowing the kind of relationship I suffered through, right under your nose—and I know that it was hard on you when I left. It's been hard for me, too, trying to pick up the pieces in my life for the past few years, trying to convince myself that I was worthy of someone loving me—that it was _okay _for someone to love me. I promised myself that I was never going to let anyone hurt me again, that I was never going to compromise myself. And I then I found Will, and he's more than I could've ever asked for. He's _more _than even the perfect man I could envision. He does have his flaws, and he has his weaknesses, but he loves me, Tom. He _loves _me. He loves me more than he loves himself. He loves me so much that I want to give him so much more than I am able to offer—and that's why I left, Tom. That's why I left. I lovehim so much that I wanted him to have more than what I could offer—something better than my brokenness, because, god dammit, he deserves a hell of lot better than what I can give him..."

Her eyes welled with tears, blurring his vision as she tore blindly away from Tom, heading toward the front door.

"Give her a minute alone, Tom," she heard her father warn before she shoved open the front door, slamming it behind her.

She gulped in the chilly November air as she stumbled over to the edge of the porch, grabbing onto the railing to support her shaking legs. She closed her eyes, letting the cold breeze ricochet off her tear stained face, trying not to think, trying not to feel.

Her breathing soon steadied, and she opened her eyes, gazing out across the expanse of surround farm land, the dull afternoon sun shining faintly across the bleak view. Her freezing fingers uncurled from the wooden railing, peeling them away as she thought about the germs for the first time.

The door creaked behind her, and she wheeled around, expecting to see her brother. Her heart skipped a beat as her gazed fell on Will instead. She turned to him, shivering, unable to say a word.

"Here," he muttered, taking off his coat and placing it securely around her shaking shoulders. The warmth from the fleece interior was too comforting to bring about an protests. She wrapped the too large coat around her, breathing in his familiar scent, a pang of nostalgia immediately shooting through her stomach. "Em, I'm so sorry..."

She brought her gaze to meet his, his eyes sincere and pained. She took in a deep breath, feeling tears brim in her eyes once again. She looked nervously toward the door, expecting Tom or her father to burst out at any moment. "Maybe we should go talk inside..." she suggested.

Will followed her gaze to the door. "Your father is the one that suggested I come out and talk to you, if that's what your worried about..." he explained, chuckling ever so slightly.

A small smile played at Emma's lips as well, glad that her father seemed to have buried the hatchet, though she didn't dare ask about Tom. She stared down all the long sleeves of Will's jacket for a moment before looking into his eyes once again, breathing heavily as she spoke. "Can you hold me, Will?" Her voice broke over his name as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"Of course, baby, of course," he soothed, wrapping her securely in his embrace. "I love you," he whispered softly.

She let her tears spill for her eyes once again, sobbing into his neck as his strong arms held her together. She clung to him, knowing now just how much she truly need him, knowing now that she would never be able to let him go.

"Why are you here?" she mumbled, once her tears had run their course.

"Because I love you," he whispered, holding her closer. "And because I was afraid of losing you." Tears welled in his own eyes as he spoke the words, brushing her hair away from her face as he looked her in the eye. "Your message scared me, Em. It scared me a lot. But once I came to terms with what you had done, I decided I'd let you have your space...but it killed me, Em. It killed me, and when you didn't pick up when I tried to call you, I panicked. I was so scared to lose you..."

"You tried to call?" Emma choked, not recalling the situation.

He smiled faintly, confusing Emma as he pulled away, pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. "You left this on your dresser...yes, I stopped by your condo. I needed to find out where you parents lived somehow...I'm glad you keep such an organized address book."

"If you weren't such a stalker, I'd find that to be endearing," she joked, letting her mouth curve into a grin. "But, Will, really...I'm glad you came. And I'm sorry, for panicking like that and running away, like I always do..."

"Don't start apologizing on me, Emma," Will chastised, jokingly, though he continued in a serious tone. "I want you to understand that you never have to be anything for me, Emma—that all you are is more than enough. I love you just the way you are. Please try to understand that, Emma—that I never see you as a burden."

"I know that, Will," she whispered. "I know that...and I'm sorry, Will."

"Emma..." he warned again.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, leaning in to embrace him, feeling a sense of comfort as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm glad you're here."

He reached for her hair, beginning to stroke it as the front door swung open. Emma jerked away from Will, envisioning an angry Tom, but was surprised to see her niece's bright smiling greeting them instead.

"Lunch is ready. Grandma heated up all the leftovers...she told me to come and tell you," Olivia explained, jumping down from the the doorstep and skipping over to Emma, her broad smile still plastered across her face.

Emma scooped her up in her arms, smiling herself as her niece wrapped her arms around her neck. "Thanks for telling us, Liv."

"Who's this pretty girl?" Will asked, grinning at Olivia over Emma's shoulder.

Olivia blushed, looking bashful, yet proud as she grinned back. "I'm Olivia."

"It's very nice to meet you, Olivia. I'm Will."

Olivia waved. "I like you," she stated simply, continuing to smile.

"Well, how about that? Because I like you too," Will replied, shooting a sideways glance toward Emma. She smiled.

"It's cold out here," Olivia muttered, burying her face in Emma's neck as a cold breeze swept past them.

"Yeah, let's go in and eat some of that yummy lunch," Will suggested, walking across the porch to the door.

"You can meet my daddy and my mommy and my baby brother and the baby in Mommy's tummy," Olivia began to ramble. She paused for a moment, looking between Will and Emma. "Are you and Aunt Emma gonna have a baby like Mommy and Daddy?"

Emma's eyes widened, looking embarrassed, but Will let out a bellowing laugh, clearly entertained. "What makes you say that, sweet pea?"

"Because you and Aunt Emma love each other. Daddy says a baby gets inside of the mommy when the daddy loves her very much...and you love Aunt Emma very much, don't you?"

Will continued to smile. "I do love your Aunt Emma very much, but right now isn't the right time for us to have a baby. But maybe someday we will."

"I would like that a lot," Olivia stated softly.

Emma blushed as she caught Will's glance, imagining for a brief moment holding a daughter in her arms just like she held Olivia now. A child that was theirs.

She placed Olivia on the ground as Will opened the door, letting her fingers twine gently with his as they headed for the dining room, relishing in her feeling of hope.

XXXX

Emma paged through the magazine for the third time, still unable to focus on the content as she fidgeted on the couch.

"What are you reading?" Tom asked, startling as she looked up.

"Um, well," she muttered, closing the magazine to glance a the cover. "_Home and Garden, _apparently."

"Where's the boyfriend? I'm actually surprised to see you two separated," Tom joked sitting down beside her. Emma blushed.

"He's out on the porch—Daddy's talking with him," Emma muttered, her nervousness increasing.

"Damn, he beat me to," Tom sighed, a smile lacing his words. "But really, Em. He seems like an okay guy. Plus he's great with Olivia."

Olivia had immediately attached herself to Will, and he had been more than willing to give her his undivided attention. She had put up a fit when bedtime rolled around, only consoled when Will offered to read her bedtime story.

"I'm glad you're giving him a chance, Tom...really, its a nice switch from hearing you call him a bastard this afternoon," Emma replied, a smile playing a her lips.

"I know, I know. I was too quick to judge," Tom defended himself. "And I want to apologize for that."

"Thank you, Tom," Emma told him, leaning back against the couch as she turned toward him. "But really, Tom, I understand why you acted the way you did, and I want to thank you for caring so much. It means the world to me."

"I've just always wanted to protect you...ever since I saw you sedated in that hospital bed after that day at the dairy farm, I felt to terrible, and I vowed I would do a better job of protecting you—and so far, I've done a pretty shitty job..."

"Stop it, Tom. None of this is your fault...and please don't bring up the dairy farm...you know I don't blame you for that..." Emma muttered, giving him a significant glance.

"I know, Em, but it messed you up nevertheless...and I have to take responsibility for that."

"Stop it, Tom," Emma chastised him. "You know it was all just a silly misunderstanding. Do you remember why you pushed me in in the first place?"

"Of course...it was because you got the last strawberry yogurt sample, and you wouldn't let me have a bite. So being the petty, irrational ten-year-old I was, I pushed you when I didn't get my way..."

"Yes. It could've happened to anyone, Tom, and my reaction was not your fault at all... I was already struggling with OCD, and something was bound to trigger it to the extreme sooner or later...it was just a stupid yogurt sample, Tom." As she said the words, she reached out to tousle his already messy hair. Her face cracked into a smile, followed by an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Tom joined her, his bellowing laughter joining in with hers. "Tom, you're the best big brother anyone could've ever asked for." She caught her breath as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I love you."

He pulled her into an embrace. "I love you, too, Em. I love you, too."

XXXX

The carpet felt soft beneath her feet as she padded cautiously down the steps, the still night wrapping around her. She skillfully stepped over the second step from the bottom to avoid the earsplitting creak she had grown all too familiar with after living here for over twenty years.

She tip-toed across the living room, stopping by the edge of the pull out couch, sitting softly against the edge of the mattress. "Will," she hissed, reaching out to gently place her hand against his arm.

His eyelids flew open. "Whazzat?" he mumbled, disoriented, as he lifted his head.

"Shh, Will, it's just me," Emma whispered as he focused his gaze on her.

He rubbed his eyes, propping his body up, his lips curving into a smile as he became fully conscious. "Hey, sweetheart...what's up?"

She blushed a little, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked at him. "I couldn't sleep..."

"Oh, honey, come here," he whispered softly, lifting up the blanket and motioning for her to join him. She gladly snugged up against his warm chest, smiling as his arms snaked around her. He held her for a moment before speaking. "As much as I'd like to keep you here all night with me, don't get too comfy. Right now I'm counting my blessings that your father, or your brother for that matter, didn't insist I sleep out on the front porch. We can't push our luck here."

Emma laughed softly, though she knew they would not be able to engage in their innocent nighttime snuggling here as they did back at home. "I feel bad you're stuck here on the couch..."

"Don't worry, Em. I'm more than comfy here, I promise," he assured her, bending over to press a gently kiss to her forehead. His simple kiss left her stomach fluttering, and she lifted her face, beckoning him to place his lips against hers.

He gladly complied, bringing his hand softly behind her head as he closed the distance between them. He tasted sweet, and as he kissed her tenderly, she felt as though they had been separated for much longer than the mere three days they had been apart.

He pulled away, leaving her panting slightly. She curled back up against him, trying to sound nonchalant as she asked, "What did my father talk to you about, anyway?"

Will was silent for a moment as he began to absentmindedly stroke her hair. She closed her eyes, relishing in the simple touch she craved. "All the things a father should—making sure that I was treating you right, that I understood that you had been through a lot. He cares about you, Emma. You're lucky to have a father—and a brother for that matter—who care about you so much."

"They're a bit too overprotective," she sighed. "But I do love them. And I'm glad they do care so much. Thanks for putting up with them."

"Honestly, Emma, there's nothing for me to put up with. I understand exactly how they feel—I feel protective of you in the same way," he explained, dipping his face down so he could catch her gaze.

"Thank you..." she muttered softly, letting the silence settle around them. She spoke after a moment, pulling herself reluctantly away from Will so she could look him in the eye as she spoke. "I've been thinking...about a few things—a few things I'd like to change, once we go home..." she trailed off.

Will propped himself up, finding her eyes, encouraging her silently.

"Well, first I, um, think that it's about time I moved in with you..." she gaged his reaction, glad that he could not see her blushing in the darkness.

"Emma..." he sighed, but she could see a smile playing on his lips in the darkness. "This is a big decision..."

"I know, I know...I've been thinking a lot about this, and Will, I'm ready. I spend more than half my nights at your place anyway, and I'm ready to take this step forward..." she explained.

"We'll talk more about it when we get home," Will told her. "What else is on your mind?"

"Well, I want to come back down here more...I can't lose my family again, and as much as we're able, I'd like to make them a part of our lives..." she told him.

"I couldn't agree more," he said, smiling at her through the veil of darkness. "In fact, if you weren't going to insist on it, then I was. I'm more than happy to make your family a part of lives, Emma, and I'm thrilled you feel the same way."

She smiled. "And there's one more thing." She paused to take a deep breath, locking her eyes with his as she spoke. "I'd like to start therapy when we get home..."

He didn't speak, his mouth opening slightly, as if trying to carefully weigh his words.

Emma licked her lips, filling the silence when he was able to say nothing. "I'm ready, Will. I'm ready to give every part of myself to you. I'm ready to get messy, and I realize I'm going to need some help before we can do that...but I'm ready."

"Em, I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with just because you're ready to have sex," he warned her. "You know that I'm fine waiting—and you shouldn't feel pressured either."

"Its not just that," she explained. "There's a lot of things—a lot of problems I've been dealing with for too long now—that have been holding me back. I want to get better, Will. I want to heal, whether intimacy is a part of that in the near future or not—I want all of it, Will. I'm ready to take that first step. I'm done running."

He brought his hand to her face, cupping her cheek softly. "I'm so proud of you, Emma, and I want you to know that I'm going to support you every step of the way."

She smiled once again, lowering her body to the bed as she snuggled up against him once again. "Thank you, Will—for everything. I love you so much."

"I love you more than I can even express, Em," he told her, holding her closely against him.

A burst of pride swelled in her heart as the broken pieces of her life began to morph in to strong foundation. She found Will's eyes, seeing everything she needed reflected from his eyes to hers...a comfort, a home, a protector, a best friend, a soul mate. But most of all, she saw love: True, raw, unconditional love.

A love that would hold them together, despite their struggles, despite her brokenness. A love that would push through their hardships; a love that would flourish during their moments of joy. A love that filled Emma to the core, settling in every crevice, finally giving her the worth she had denied herself for so long.

She closed her eyes, smiling slightly, a warmth rushing though her.

"Don't you fall asleep on me, Emma," Will warned her. "That will make it just that much harder for me to kick you out."

"Just one more minute," she muttered, dipping her head into the crook of his neck. One more minute of infinite. Just one minute in their forever.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so, so much for the continuing encouragement as I wrote this. You guys were truly a pleasure to write for. I really hoped you enjoyed this story as much as loved writing it. :]_

_Eh, the endings a little corny, but Emma deserved a happy ending like that, no?_

_I am sorry for the wait. This chapter was very difficult to get just right, and there are still a few things I'm unsure about. But I am mostly pleased with the way this turned out. Thanks so much guys for staying with me through this whole writing process :]_

_Thanks to my anonymous reviewers: Alyssa, gleefan, Karen, lovdg, and Honest Reviewer_


End file.
